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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORN  A   SAN  D  EGO 


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3  182201701  3756 


ANDERSONVILLB. 


THE  STORY  OF 


MAN'S    INHUMANITY"    TO    MAN 


BY  JAMES  R.  COMPTON, 


PBIVATE  IN  COMPANY  "F,"  FOURTH  IOWA  INFANTRY. 


DES  MOINES,  IOWA: 
IOWA  PRINTING  COMPANY. 

1887. 


To  the  memory  of  that  brave  band  of  heroes  who  sleep 
the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking,  and  who  were  true  to  the 
flag  and  the  cause  of  freedom  when  the  monster  death  was 
looking  them  in  the  face,  is  this  little  volume  dedicated  by 
one  who  suffered  with  them,  but  by  the  providence  of  God 
was  spared  to  inscribe  this  tribute  to  their  memory. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


PBEFACE. 


Anderson ville  has  become  a  part  and  parcel  of  the  Nation's 
history,  and  in  relating  the  experience  of  my  incarceration 
and  the  consequent  sufferings  of  myself  and  the  brave  boys  in 
blue  who  were  my  constant  companions  in  that  hell  on  earth, 
it  shall  be  done  in  as  mild  a  manner  as  the  thought  of  one 
who  at  this  period  of  his  life,  after  years  of  suffering  from 
the  inhuman  treatment  received  at  the  hands  of  those  in 
charge  of  that  prison,  can  conceive.  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
give  the  full  story  of  the  horror  and  misery  of  that  vile  abode, 
I  merely  give  a  sketch  of  my  army  and  prison  life,  capture 
and  escape,  recapture  by  the  rebel  blood  hounds  and  final  es- 
cape from  the  most  inhuman  monsters  that  ever  breathed  the 
pure,  free  air  of  God,  this  little  work  is  sent  out  with  the  hope 
that  my  comrades  who  have  often  recited  the  tale  of  war  to 
their  families  and  friends  may  thus  have  the  history  of  that 
curse  entailed  by  treason  upon  the  brave  boys  who  went  down 
in  the  vortex,  as  a  memento  of  one  who  was  with  them  and 
who  presents  the  story  in  its  true  light.  It  was  through  the 
heroism  of  those  whose  bones  are  bleaching  under  the  rays  of 
that  Georgia  sun  and  the  patriotic  devotion  of  their  brave 
comrades  who  never  faltered  in  their  love  for  the  flag  and  the 
cause  of  freedom,  that  their  land  is  blessed  with  peace,  plenty 
and  happiness;  and  if  we  have  said  one  word  in  this  little 
book  that  will  keep  the  memory  of  the  dead  bright  and  the 
cause  of  the  living  before  the  American  people  in  its  true 
light  then  our  efforts  have  not  been  in  vain. 
Respectfully, 

JAMES  E.  COMPTON. 


A  VETERANS   STORY    OF   THE   WAR. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Enlists  in  the  Army — Sent  to  St.  Louis — A  Dreaded  Disease — General 
Curtis  Orders  Medical  Aid  and  Rations — Return  to  My  Regiment. 

FOR  six  years  I  had  been  a  resident  of  Madison  County, 
Iowa,  when  war  was  declared.  The  president,  Abraham 
Lincoln,  had  called  for  volunteers.  On  the  third  day  of 
July,  1861,  William  Debusk  and  I  went  together  to  Winterset, 
Iowa,  and  enlisted  in  the  Fourth  Iowa  Infantry.  Our  cap- 
tain was  H.  J.  B.  Cummings. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  July  we  were  taken  to  Council  Bluffs 
to  join  our  regiments,  our  neighbors  using  their  teams  to 
bring  us  to  the  Bluffs. 

This  was  the  first  company  which  had  left  Winterset,  and 
many  affecting  scenes  were  witnessed  between  parting  friends. 
We  were,  for  the  present,  stationed  at  Council  Bluffs,  Col. 
G.  M.  Dodge  commanding  our  regiment.  At  the  end  of 
fifteen  days'  drilling  a  circumstance  occurred  to  test  the  mettle 
of  our  recently  made  soldiers.  It  was  reported  that  the  rebels 
were  encrouching  on  the  Iowa  line  from  Missouri;  our 
colonel  called  for  ten  men  from  each  company  to  go  out  and 
drive  back  the  troops  on  the  Iowa  and  Missouri  line.  The 
weather  being  very  hot  and  the  roads  hard  we  were  a  sore- 
footed  lot  upon  our  return  to  our  regiment.  The  visible 
forces  in  our  front  disappeared  one  night  after  trying  to 
frighten  us  with  a  discharge  of  arms.  Within  five  minutes 
after  the  discharge  of  arms  by  the  rebs  our  column  was  in 
line  of  battle,  but  none  of  the  boys  were  hurt.  Soon  after 


8  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OP  THE  WAR. 

this  we  were  placed  on  a  steamer  and  taken  to  St.  Joe,  Mis- 
souri; from  there  to  Hannibal  and  on  to  St.  Louis,  Missouri, 
where  my  trials  began  in  earnest.  Here  we  were  all  mustered 
into  the  United  States  service.  At  this  time  St.  Louis  was 
expecting  an  attack  at  any  moment,  large  bodies  of  confeder- 
ates being  in  that  vicinity,  so  we  were  ordered  to  load  our 
guns  and  to  lay  upon  our  arms  all  night.  The  following 
morning  I  found  that  I  was  unable  to  rise  from  my  impro- 
vised bed,  and  was  carried  by  my  comrades  to  one  of  the  hos- 
pital tents.  Here  I  lay  all  that  day  and  the  following  night 
wild  with  fever.  During  this  day  and  night  I  was  waited 
upon  by  Alexander  Tedford. 

When  morning  came  again  I  discovered  blisters  upon  my 
wrists  and  temples.  At  this  time  Mr.Banty,  hospital  steward, 
came  in  and  asked  me  if  I  did  not  want  to  be  removed  to  the 
general  hospital,  to  which  I  replied  that  I  did  not  unless  some 
of  my  comrades  could  go  with  me  to  take  care  of  me,  to 
which  he  said  I  would  be  well  cared  for.  Presently  a  team 
was  rapidly  driven  to  my  tent  door  and  two  men  hurriedly 
picked  me  up  and  tossed  me  into  the  wagon,  bed  and  all.  I 
said  to  them,  you  must  be  in  a  great  hurry  to  get  me  away 
from  here.  I  was  driven  away  at  a  rapid  rate.  Your  sick 
man  could  not  comprehend  why  he  should  be  hurried  about  in 
such  a  fashion,  but  presently  we  came  to  a  wide  road.  On  we 
went  until  finally  we  came  to  a  beautiful  shady  place,  with 
long  velvety  gra^s.  Here  we  stopped  and  the  wagon  was  de- 
livered of  its  load.  They  next  proceeded  to  pitch  a  tent. 
To  my  fevered  brain  it  seemed  that  these  preparations  were  for 
the  purpose  of  burying  me,  but  the  men  relieved  my  mind 
upon  that  score  by  telling  me  I  had  the  small-pox,  and  in  its 
worst  form.  After  the  tent  was  up  they  carried  me  in  and 


A  VETERANS  STORY    OF  THE  WAR.  9 

placed  me  on  the  cot,  and  there  I  was  left,  it  seemed  to  me,  to 
die.  I  lay  there  for  three  long  weeks  in  the  care  of  two  strange 
men  from  Co.  B,  of  my  regiment.  I  was  supplied  with 
neither  doctor,  medicine,  food,  and  no  instructions  of  any  kind 
were  left.  Of  course  I  grew  rapidly  worse  under  these  con- 
ditions, the  different  pustules  on  my  face  coalesed,  forming 
one  covering  of  heavy  exudation  over  the  whole  of  my  face. 
Sight  was  entirely  gone  for  ten  days.  The  two  men  who 
were  left  with  me  would  only  look  in  to  see  if  I  were  dead. 
If  dead,  they  would  dig  a  hole  in  the  ground  and  put  me  into 
it.  These  men  were  the  two  Bryant  brothers,  from  Co.  B. 
We  were  very  hard  pressed  for  something  to  eat;  some  pota- 
toes and  onions  were  donated  by  the  citizens,  and  we  traded  a 
government  ax  for  some  apples  and  peaches.  Some  time  had 
elapsed  since  I  was  put  in  the  tent,  and  I  had  commenced  to 
get  better.  Mr.  Bryant  reported  our  condition  to  General 
Curtis,  which  resulted  in  an  order  for  us  to  be  moved  down 
the  Mississippi  river  to  the  foot  of  those  hills  designated  as 
Iron  Mountains.  General  Curtis  further  ordered  that  we  have 
medical  attendance  and  plenty  to  eat,  which  was  welcomed,  I 
assure  you. 

The  cause  of  my  not  receiving  medical  aid  sooner,  was  of 
the  report  of  our  second  surgeon,  Dr.  Grimes,  to  post  surgeon 
when  I  was  first  taken  ill  that  he  did  not  consider  my  case  a 
dangerous  one;  so  when  my  regiment  left,  my  surgeon  paid 
no  attention  to  me,  which  is  the  explanation  of  my  being  sick 
without  medical  attention.  (This  at  least  is  the  excuse  the 
post  surgeon  gives.)  I  have  learned  that  after  my  removal  from 
my  regiment,  when  my  comrades  learned  of  my  condition, 
the  officers  were  compelled  to  place  a  double  guard  around 
the  regiment  to  which  I  belonged  to  keep  them  from  coming 


10  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

out  to  care  for  me.  But  I  presume  it  was  better  to  keep 
them  from  me  in  order  that  the  disease  should  spread  no 
further. 

In  a  few  days  the  physician  in  charge  told  me  that  if  I 
would  change  all  my  clothes  and  shave  my  head,  and  wade 
out  into  the  river  as  far  as  I  could,  and  wash  myself  thoroughly 
with  soap  twice  each  day  for  two  or  three  days  that  I  might 
then  go  to  my  regiment.  That  was  joyful  news  to  me.  The 
expectation  of  again  being  with  the  boys  filled  me  with  hap- 
piaess,  for  to  me  the  regiment  was  home. 

But  there  were  places  upon  my  face  and  hands  which  had 
net  yet  healed.  Many  persons  were  frightened  at  my  appear- 
ance and  would  run  away  from  me,  as  it  was  evident  from 
my  appearance  what  the  trouble  had  been.  To  show  how 
people  feared  the  contagion  of  small-pox,  I  saw  that  all  the 
passengers  left  the  car  on  which  I  rode  to  Rolla,  Missouri. 

1  left  the  cars  at  Rolla,  Missouri,  to  walk  out  to  the  regi- 
ment, which  was  stationed  at  Camp  Lyons.  I  was  very  weak 
and  trembling  when  I  left  the  cars,  and  my  steps  were  verj' 
unsteady.  My  feet  seemed  to  raise  too  high  when  I  would 
step.  The  boys  saw  me  coming,  and  some  of  them  ran  across 
the  guard  line  to  meet  me,  among  which  was  George  and 
Charles  Tibbies,  E.  Decker,  and  others.  They  were  rejoiced 
to  see  one  whom  they  supposed  was  dead.  What  pen  can 
picture  the  joy  of  such  re-unions?  Lieutenant  Stitt  laid  hold 
of  me  and  marched  off  to  headquarters,  where  I  enjoyed  a 
bountiful  repast  with  Lieutenants  Stitt  and  Goshorn,  which 
consisted  of  peach  cobler  and  other  good  things.  C.  E. 
Tibbies  took  occasion  to  remark  that  he  was  going  to  sleep 
with  me  that  night.  This  was  followed  by  objections  of 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  11 

others  who  claimed  the  right,  but  as  C.  E.  Tibbies  had  always 
been  my  bunk  mate  it  was  decided  in  his  favor. 

Dear  reader,  do  not  think  that  the  boys  all  wanted  to  bunk 
with  me  because  I  was  so  handsome,  although  Dr.  Grimes 
always  denominated  me  by  "pretty"  after  my  return.  No,  it 
was  that  feeling  that  one  soldier  boy  has  for  his  comrades  in 
hardship  and  danger.  At  this  time  our  camp  was  situated 
one  mile  south  of  Rolla,  on  a  beautiful  elevated  spot  of 
ground.  Here  we  remained  for  some  time.  The  usual  rou- 
tine of  camp  life,  drilling,  picketing,  scouting  and  guard  duty 
kept  us  here  until  we  drew  our  first  pay  from  the  govern- 
ment, which  was  in  gold,  silver  and  greenbacks.  This  was 
all  the  hard  money  paid  to  us  during  the  war.  A  portion  of  our 
time  was  made  to  pass  more  pleasantly  by  several  temperance 
speeches,  notable  among  which  was  one  delivered  by  Rev. 
Storrs,  of  Winterset.  These  exercises  were  very  much  en- 
joyed by  the  boys.  About  this  time  we  moved  our  camp 
down  to  Rolla,  Missouri,  where  we  built  our  barracks  for  our 
winter  quarters. 


12  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Improvement  in  Health— Foraging  for  Stock— Measles  in  Camp — The 
March  on  Springfield,  Missouri,  and  its  Capture — Description  of 
Pea  Ridge. 

A  1 Y  health  was  very  good  now,  and  I  became  very  stout  again. 
1Y1  I  would  volunteer  to  go  with  every  scouting  party  that 
was  sent  out.  At  one  time  there  was  ten  out  of  each 
company  asked  to  volunteer  to  go  on  a  scout  some  distance 
from  camp.  I  was  one  of  the  number  from  our  company. 
We  started  out  and  went  south  from  Rolla  about  twenty-five 
miles  to  a  little  village  called  Licking.  Here  a  captain  was 
detached  with  each  squad  and  we  started  out.  We  employed 
skirmishers  and  coralled  the  whole  country.  We  were  ordered 
to  let  nothing  pass  through  our  lines.  The  first  our  squad 
found  was  a  man  with  a  number  of  horses.  Our  commander 
called  to  him  to  halt,  which  he  immediately  obeyed.  We  took 
the  horses.  Our  next  conquest  was  a  large  Texas  steer,  which 
I  had  the  honor  of  downing  myself.  When  we  all  came 
together  we  had  a  large  drove  of  animals.  We  had  some 
nice  sheep,  cattle,  mules,  asses,  and  other  things  too  numer- 
ous to  mention.  We  finally  started  for  camp,  and  when  the 
boys  saw  us  coming  they  thought  we  we're  a  large  band  of 
Mormans  or  Gypsies  on  the  war  path,  when  finally  they  con- 
cluded it  was  the  whole  southern  confederacy  corning  down 
upon  them.  We  boys  had  our  fun  as  well  as  doing  good  ser- 
vice for  the  government.  Elihu  Debusk  died  in  this  camp 
with  measles,  and  his  father  Isaac  took  his  place  in  the  com- 
pany. Also  another  one  of  the  same  family  by  the  name  of 
Levi  Debusk  was  discharged  and  sent  home  sick  before  we 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  13 

left  Iowa.    We  were  all  getting  very  anxious  for  active  service 
and  wanted  a  brush  with  the  rebs. 

In  February,  1862,  we  were  ordered  to  march  on  Spring- 
field, Missouri.  The  state  of  the  weather  was  decidedly  bad 
for  the  movement  of  an  army.  There  was  snow,  rain  and 
mud.  Within  a  few  miles  of  Springfield  we  were  met  by  a 
regiment  of  Price's  infantry,  and  a  battery.  This  movement 
of  Price's  seemed  to  be  for  the  purpose  of  covering  his  retreat 
from  the  city  of  Springfield.  Price  believing  the  whole  Union 
force  was  upon  him,  precipitately  fled  Springfield  in  the 
night.  Lieutenant  Stitt  was  detailed  the  next  morning  with 
one  company  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  the  situation  of  the 
rebels.  Lieutenant  Stitt  was  a  fearless  officer  and  man,  whose 
actions  were  ever  guarded  with  caution.  With  his  detail  he 
cautiously  approached  the  city.  He  soon  saw  the  city  was 
evacuated.  Pressing  forward  he  succeeded  in  capturing  a 
number  of  rebels  and  some  property.  When  the  main  body 
of  the  army  arrived  in  the  town  Price  was  on  the  move — 
retreating  as  rapidly  as  he  could  move  his  army.  We  made  a 
close  pursuit,  and  our  troops  were  engaged  almost  every  after- 
noon for  several  days.  We  would  press  forward  through 
creeks,  mud  or  snow  upon  the  double  quick  to  reach  his  rear, 
when  we  would  engage  them.  Our  men  often  caught  chickens 
which  they  would  carry  with  them,  and  would  be  loth  to  let  * 
them  go  even  during  one  of  these  engagements.  1  remember 
very  distinctly  of  dressing  a  goose  on  one  of  those  afternoons, 
and  I  thought  it  the  best  I  ever  ate. 

We  drove  Price  to  Arkansas.  We  now  stopped  several  days 
and  drilled;  also  run  a  grist  mill.  We  were  a  tender-footed 
lot  of  soldiers  when  we  were  ordered  into  camp. 

At  this  place  we  received  very  strict  orders,  while  on  picket 


14  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

duty.  One  night  when  company  F  was  on  guard  at  the  old 
mill,  the  snow  coming  down  in  great  sheets,  mixed  with  rain, 
I  was  stationed  some  hundred  paces  from  the  mill  at  the  forks 
of  the  road.  One  of  these  roads  led  to  our  camp  and  one  to 
Huntsville.  There  was  a  bridge  on  one  road  which  I  was  to 
guard  by  hearing;  the  other  I  also  had  to  guard.  I  was 
stationed  in  the  shadow  of  some  bushes  about  twenty  feet 
from  the  bridge  in  such  a  position  that  I  would  not  readily  be 
discovered.  The  snow  was  still  falling  at  10  o'clock,  and 
melting  as  it  fell.  About  this  time  I  heard  foot-steps  on  the 
bridge.  I  expected  an  enemy,  and  hastily  fixing  bayonet  I 
passed  rapidly  to  the  bridge,  and  with  cocked  gun  I  halted 
the  man  and  demanded  the  countersign,  which  he  gave  cor- 
rectly. This  man  proved  to  be  a  courier  with  a  dispatch  to 
Capt.  Cummings.  He  informed  us  that  the  rebels 'were  about 
to  surround  us.  The  army  were  then  on  the  move,  and  he 
was  to  pilot  us  through  the  country  by  an.  old  road  to  meet 
the  main  army.  We  arrived  at  the  main  road  before  the  rebs 
did.  Gen.  Curtis  was  made  to  give  the  countersign.  We 
marched  all  night  in  a  snow  storm.  Men  would  fall  asleep 
while  marching  along,  and  be  awakened  by  falling  in 
the  mud,  and  still  we  struggled  on  until  daylight's  beauti- 
ful aurora  began  to  show  in  the  east  when  we  were 
allowed  twenty  minutes  to  make  coffee.  We  then 
marched  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  when  we  stacked  arms. 
Here  we  made  some  more  coffee.  Just  as  we  got  our  coffee 
made,  the  long  roll  beat.  We  were  in  line  almost  instantly. 
From  there  we  double-quicked  to  the  Elkhorn  Tavern.  Here 
men  came  riding  in  hot  haste  with  information  that  the  con- 
federates were  moving.  Gen.  Curtis  was  quick  to  act.  He 
must  concentrate  his  forces.  Cavalry  men  were  sent  across 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  15 

the  country  to  officers  who  were  out  foraging;  also  to  Sigel. 
Gen.  Curtis  resolved  to  fight  a  battle,  although  the  rebels 
outnumbered  him  two  to  one.  He  selected  Pea  Ridge  as  his 
battle  ground.  To  understand  how  the  battle  was  fought  let 
us  first  take  a  walk  over  the  ground,  starting  from  Elkhorn 
Tavern. 

The  road  from  Springfield  to  Fayetteville  runs  southwest. 
The  tavern  is  on  the  ridge  going  down  the  road  southwest. 
We  then  pass  Sugar  Creek.  We  come  next  to  the  hamlet  of 
Mottsville,  where  the  tents  of  the  third  and  fourth  divisions  are 
standing.  The  valley  is  half  a  mile  wide.  Walking  on  we 
ascend  another  hill.  Ten  miles  bring  us  to  Cross  Hollows,  a 
place  where  the  hollows  or  ravines  cross  each  other.  The 
ravines  are  narrow;  about  seventy  feet  wide;  the  banks 
steep,  and  the  position  one  of  great  strength.  Just  south  of 
Cross  Hollows  Gen.  Van  Dorn  pitched  his  tent.  Here  we 
turn  northwest,  which  takes  us  into  Osage  Springs,  thence 
north  to  Bentonsville,  which  is  ten  miles  west  of  Mottsville. 
Here  we  see  the  first  and  second  divisions  under  Sigel. 
Turning  now  northeast  we  come,  just  before  reaching  Sugar 
Creek,  to  a  road  branching  to  the  right.  If  we  follow  it  we 
will  come  to  the  hamlet  of  Lee  Town,  and  it  will  bring  us 
back  to  Elkhorn  Tavern.  Following  the  main  road  we  cross 
Sugar  Creek  and  ascend  Pea  Ridge  and  come  out  to  cross  Tim- 
ber Hollow,  which  is  four  miles  due  west  of  the  tavern.  Now, 
keeping  these  points  in  our  minds  we  shall  see  how  the  con- 
federates moved  to  surprise  Gen.  Curtis.  Gen.  Curtis  had 
formed  his  line  facing  south,  expecting  that  Van  Dorn  would 
advance  from  Cross  Hollows,  but  that  was  not  Van  Dorn's 
plan,  as  we  see  him  come  up  the  road  toward  Gen.  Curtis  with 
a  small  force,  while  the  main  army  turns  west  toward  Ben- 


16  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

tonville  to  meet  Sigel.  Messengers  here  brought  word  to 
Sigel  to  retreat  to  Pea  Ridge.  He  has  two  hundred  wagons 
which  he  sends  in  advance.  The  rebel  cavalry  meantime  ride 
rapidly  around  him  and  gain  his  rear,  but  he  fights  his  way 
through  them,  loosing  twenty-eight  killed  and  fifty  prisoners. 
He  joins  Curtis,  who  seeing  Van  Dorn's  intention  quickly 
changes  his  front  to  meet  Van  Dorn's  main  body. 

The  Union  line  of  battle,  on  March  7th,  at  Pea  Ridge,  was 
as  follows:  Carr's  division  up  the  road  to  Elkhorn  Tavern. 
This  division  to  hold  the  right  of  the  line.  They  are  in  the 
thickest  of  the  fight,  which  is  around  the  tavern.  Next  is 
third  division,  under  Gen.  Davis.  Beyond  him,  third  and  fourth 
under  Sigel. 

The  confederate  line,  Gen.  Price  with  the  Missourians,  has 
led  the  advance  of  the  confederates,  they  having  made  a  long 
march  and  reached  the  road  northeast  of  Elkhorn  Tavern, 
and  confront  Gen.  Carr's  division.  Next  in  line  toward  Cross 
Hollows  are  the  Arkansas  troops  under  Gen.  McCulloch,  while 
the  Texans  and  Louisianians  confront  Sigel. 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  17 


CHAPTER  III. 

Pea  Ridge — First  Day's-  Fight— Loss  of  Federal  Battery— Gen.  Curtis' 
Retreat  Cut  Off — The  Out-look  Gloomy  for  the  Union  Forces,  when 
Rebels  Scatter  and  Run — The  Victory  Ours. 

IT  was  10:30  in  the  morning  when  Col.  Osterhaus  with 
the  Third  Iowa  Cavalry,  a  detachment  of  the  First  Mis- 
souri Cavalry  and  the  Twenty-second  Indiana  Divisions, 
Peoria  battery  advanced  to  reconnoiter  the  confederate  posi- 
tion. The  cavalry  drove  in  the  confederate  pickets,  the  Peoria 
battery  opened  fire,  the  pickets  retreated  to  the  woods,  and  the 
cavalry  charged  after  them.  Suddenly  the  woods  were  thick 
with  confederates,  the  cavalry  was  driven  back,  while  the  con- 
federates rushed  upon  the  battery  and  captured  two  guns. 
They  were  wild  with  joy.  At  the  same  time  there  was  a  ripple 
of  musketry  in  the  woods  north  of  the  tavern.  Pike  was 
advancing  to  attack  Carr.  The  Union  pickets  were  falling 
back,  the  battle  was  raging  so  furiously  on  the  left  that  Gen. 
Curtis  sent  Gen.  Davis  to  assist  Osterhaus.  The  third  divis- 
ion went  through  with  his  second  brigade,  commanded  by 
Col.  White,  Ninth  Missouri,  Thirty-seventh  Illinois,  and  a  bat- 
tery of  four  guns.  The  brigade  formed  in  line.  The  woods 
in  front  of  the  troops  were  alive  with  Indians,  under  Gen. 
Pike  and  the  celebrated  chief,  John  Ross.  The  Texans  and 
Louisiana  troops  oharged  upon  the  brigade  with  fury  and  were 
driven  back,  and  then  the  confederates  with  wild  yells  pierced 
the  air.  They  thought  they  were  going  to  have  things  their  own 
way.  The  First  brigade  swept  in,  firing  terrific  volleys,  in 
2 


18  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

which  Gen.  McCulloch  was  killed  and  Gen.  Mclntosh 
wounded.  Backward  and  forward,  over  the  knolls,  through 
the  hollows,  in  the  fields  and  thickets,  swayed  the  battle. 
Sigel's  troops  came  in,  Van  Dorn  ordered  re-enforce- 
ments. Gen.  Davis  saw  that  the  confederate's  left  flank  was 
exposed,  and  sent  the  Eighteenth  Indiana  to  attack  it.  The 
regiment  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the  Indians,  driving 
them  and  strewing  the  field  with  killed  and  wounded;  rushing 
upon  the  cannon,  wheeling  them  into  position  and  turning 
them  upon  the  fleeing  confederates. .  The  battle  on  the  left 
center  was  over  around  the  tavern  and  to  the  east  of  it.  Col. 
Carr  placed  the  first  brigade. 

Capt.  Jones'  battery  was  the  first  to  open  fire.  Col.  Van- 
dover  was  at  Huntsville,  forty  miles  away.  When  Gen.  Cur- 
tis' orders  reached  him  the  brigade  had  marched  the  distance, 
stopping  three  times,  only  making  a  rest  at  each  halt  of  fif- 
teen minutes.  We  see  the  brigade  advancing  half  a  mile 
north  of  the  tavern,  and  Capt.  Hayden's  battery  from  Dubu- 
que  coming  into  position  and  opening  fire.  Sterling  Price, 
commanding  the  Missouri  troops,  determined  to  strike  with 
all  his  force.  He  presses  on,  drives  Vandover  towards  the 
tavern,  makes  a  sudden  rush  capturing  one  of  the  cannons. 

Gen.  Carr  is  out-numbered  two  to  one.  "  I  must  have  rein- 
forcements," is  his  message  to  Curtis.  "  I  send  you  my  body 
guard;  you  must  hold  them,"  was  the  response,  and  Maj. 
Brown's  Battalion  of  Cavalry  went  thundering  down  the  road 
with  a  howitzer.  They  were  all  the  troops  that  could 
be  spared  till  the  matter  was  settled  on  the  left.  "  I  cannot 
hold  on  much  longer,"  was  the  second  message  from  Carr. 
''  You  shall  have  help,"  was  the  reply,  and  a  battery  came  up 
from  the  left,  with  a  battalion  of  infantry.  A  few  minutes 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  ^:HE  WAR.  19 

later  Curtis  himself,  with  Arboth's  division,  came  sweeping 
over  the  ridge  to  Carr's  aid.  Through  the  afternoon  Price 
had  passed  on,  Carr  disputing  every  inch  of  ground;  he  had 
been  driven  9,  mile.  Arboth's  batteries  wheeled  into  position 
south  of  the  tavern.  The  battle  was  raging  furiously ;  four  men 
that  stood  next  to  me  were  shot;  large  trees  were  shot  down 
with  cannon  balls.  We  had  fired  away  all  of  our  ammuni- 
tion, so  we  charged  bayonets  and  drove  the  rebs  and  held  the 
ground  till  night.  The  battle  being  on  the  left,  more  of 
Sigel's  troops  come  hurrying  across  the  pasture.  Night  came 
on  with  the  rebs  defeated  on  the  left,  but  well  satisfied  with 
what  they  had  accomplished  on  the  right;  there  they  were  in 
possession  of  the  field,  had  captured  our  cannon,  and  had  pos- 
session of  the  road  to  Springfield,  cutting  off  Curtis'  retreat. 
The  outlook  was  not  encouraging  for  Gen.  Curtis,  for  when 
the  sun  goes  down  his  line  of  retreat  is  cut  off. 

Second  day — eight  o'clock,  and  the  confederates  have  not 
advanced.  Gen.  Curtis  resolves  to  commence  the  battle. 
Sigel  pushes  his  infantry  forward,  attacking  the  flank  of  the 
confederates.  I  will  not  narrate  all  the  details;  how  Pattison's 
brigade  and  the  Tenth  Indiana  Battery  fought  in  the  fields 
south  of  the  tavern  and  east  of  the  road;  how  the  confederate 
batteries  opened  upon  them,  compelling  them  to  fall  back; 
how  White's  brigade  and  Davidson's  battery  made  the  line  a 
sheet  of  flame  on  the  left,  and  the  Twelfth  Missouri,  with 
twelve  guns,  on  the  right  in  their  rear,  the  men  lying  down 
and  the  cannon  sending  a  storm  of  shells,  into  the  confederate's 
line  silencing  Van  Dorn's  batteries,  discouraging  his  troops, 
the  Indians  fleeing,  the  Arkansas  and  Louisiana  troops  loosing 
heart,  the  confederates  firing  grows  fainter,  the  troops  fleeing 
at  last  in  dismay  in  every  direction  so  suddenly  that  Gen.  Cur- 


20  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

tis  is  at  a  loss  which  way  to  turn  in  pursuit.  Eight  miles 
away  Van  Dorn  gathered  a  portion  of  his  scattered  troops, 
and  sent  a  request  to  Gen.  Curtis  to  bury  the  dead  and  care 
for  the  wounded. 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  21 


CHAPTER  IV. 

After  the  Battle — Hospital  at  Springfield — Fishing  and  making  Rings 
of  Mussel  Shells — Trading  Guns — Copperheads  at  Home 

WE  remained  here  in  camp  a  few  days  and  cared  for 
our  sick  and  dead  and  wounded,  and  gathered  up  some 
forage,  moved  our  camp,  and  got  our  pay.  I  was  now 
sick  with  intermittent  fever,  but  we  started  on  a  march 
through  Arkansas.  But  sick  as  I  was,  .the  captain  told  me 
I  must  go  on  the  march  also.  Colonel  Dodge  was  here  pro- 
moted to  brigadier-general,  and  Adjutant  Williams  was  elec- 
ted colonel  of  the  Fourth  Iowa  Infantry.  We  now  started 
on  the  march.  I  was  so  sick  and  weak  I  could  hardly  walk 
and  it  was  ten  o'clock  at  night  before  I  got  to  camp.  I  was 
so  sick  the  next  morning  that  Lieut.  Stitt  took  Decker, 
Logan,  Keffer  and  me  to  the  hospital  at  Springfield,  Mo. 

W  hen  able  to  travel  again,  we  got  a  pass  to  Rolla,  Mo., 
which  was  about  sixty  miles  from  Springfield.  We  stopped 
at  Rolla,  rested,  and  had  some  fine  times,  then  went  with 
some  teamster  to  our  regiment.  On  our  road  there  we  had 
a  good  time.  We  would  stop  and  take  dinner  with  our  Ar- 
kansas friends.  When  we  got  to  our  regiment  at  Jackson- 
port,  Ark.,  we  remained  there  a  few  weeks,  and  spent  our  leis- 
ure time  fishing,  bathing  and  making  finger-rings  out  of  mus- 
sel shells. 

We  then  started  on  the  march  again  for  Helena,  Ark.  On 
the  road  there  we  had  several  skirmishes  with  the  rebels.  We 
marched  on  and  on,  and  it  being  very  hot,  dry  and  dusty,  we 
had  a  long,  hard  march  of  it.  It  being  almost  impossible  to 


22  A  VETERAN  8  STORT    OF  THE   WAR. 

get  water  we  nearly  famished.  We  often  used  water  with  a 
thick  green  scum  over  it,  and  was  glad  to  get  that.  One  day 
while  the  dust  was  rising  so  thick  that  one  comrade  could 
scarcely  see  what  the  rest  were  doing  we  came  upon  a  spring 
of  good  water.  I  rushed  up  to  the  fence  that  was  around  the 
spring,  set  my  gun  down  until  I  could  get  a  drink,  and  when 
I  turned  to  pick  it  up  again  my  nice  gun  was  gone,  and  in  its 
place  an  old  gun,  its  stocks  all  split,  and  fit  for  nothing. 
Having  a  skirmish  with  the  rebels  almost  every  day,  and  I 
without  a  gun  and  could  not  get  one  honorably,  I  waited, 
thinking  we  would  .get  into  a  general  engagement,  and  I 
thought  that  perhaps  I  could  then  pick  up  a  dead  man's  gun 
that  might  fall  by  my  side.  We  had  no  chance  to  draw 
clothing,  nor  had  not  had  since  leaving  Rolla,  Mo.,  before 
the  battle  of  Pea  Ridge,  therefore  we  were  very  destitute  of 
clothing,  and  when  we  got  to  Helena,  Ark.,  we  were  ragged 
and  footsore.  I  firmly  believe  that  when  we  got  to  Helena 
that  there  were  five  hundred  of  Gen.  Curtis1  men  destitute 
of  pants.  So  we  drew  clothing,  and  the  lieutenant  told  me 
I  had  better  draw  a  gun,  but  he  said  it  would  cost  me  $15. 
I  told  him  I  would  not  draw  a  gun.  He  said  he  would  have 
inspection  in  the  morning,  then  what  would  I  do?  The 
Government  was  issuing  guns  to  some  other  soldiers,  and 
when  they  got  what  they  wanted  and  went  away,  I  went  up 
to  the  box  and  picked  myself  out  the  best  gun  I  could  find 
and  took  it,  for  I  didn't  think  it  right  for  me  to  have  to  pay 
for  a  gun  when  a  soldier  got  mine,  and  I  was  working  for  the 
Government.  But  everything  worked  together  for  good,  and 
I  came  out  on  inspection  with  flying  colors. 

We  had  been  at  Helena  but  a  short  time  when  the  boys 
begun  to  get  sick.    I  begun  to  shake  with  the  chills  and  fever 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  23 

myself,  and  bad  them  for  three  months  every  day,  and  became 
very  weak  and  reduced  in  flesh.  During  that  time  1  fre- 
quently received  letters  from  home,  stating  that  the  copper- 
heads, or  "Southern  Sympathizers,"  were  riding  around 
my  father's  farm  and  cheering  for  Jeff  Davis.  How  that 
made  the  blood  boil  in  my  veins.  Therefore  I  went  to  the 
captain  and  told  him  I  would  give  him  $50  if  he  would  give 
me  a  leave  of  absence  for  one  week  so  I  could  go  home,  for 
I  wanted  to  put  those  rebels  out  of  my  father's  way  so  they 
wouldn't  bother  him  any  more.  Bab  I  could  not  go.  I 
wrote  a  letter  to  one  of  them,  and  told  him  how  I  loved  him, 
and  what  he  was,  and  what  he  would  bring  himself  and  fam- 
ily to  if  they  still  remained  enemies  to  our  country;  and  he 
took  offense  at  it,  and  had  the  letter  published  in  the  Winter- 
set  paper,  and  I  will  here  state  what  the  editor  says  about  it: 

"We  insert  the  following  by  request  of  one  Mr.  B.,  whose  object  in  its 
publication  we  know  not,  but  we  do  know  that  the  author  of  it  is  a 
soldier  of  Co.  F,  Fourth  Regt.  Iowa  Vols.,  and  that  he  is  a  truthful 
and  an  upright  young  man,  therefore  we  cheerfully  give  it  a  place  in  our 
columns.  Read  it  everybody.  It  is  the  best  we  have  seen  from  the  front 
lately." 

This  enraged  the  copperheads,  and  the  editor  was  compel- 
led to  be  constantly  on  his  guard.  I  wrote  this  letter  on  the 
twentieth  of  October,  1862. 


24  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Down  the  Mississippi— Arkansas  Post— Council  of  War  at  Millikin's 
Bend — Captured— Paroled — Benton  Barracks —  Memphis,  Corinth, 
luka — Rebels  in  the  Blue — Death  of  James  Stafford — Chickasaw 
Landing — Battle  above  the  Clouds— Tibbies  as  a  Forager. 

WE  now  had  orders  to  proceed  to  Vicksburg,  Gen.  Sher- 
man in  command.  We  boarded  a  Mississippi  steam- 
boat and  proceeded  down  the  river  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Yazoo.  We  went  up  the  Yazoo  about  ten  miles  and  disem- 
barked on  the  right  bank.  Our  gunboats  had  the  day  previous 
attacked  Haines1  Bluff,  about  twenty  miles  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Yazoo  river.  Upon  landing  we  were  formed  into  line  of 
battle.  The  generals  commanding  were  A.  J.  Smith,  M.  L. 
Smith,  Steele,  and  G.  W.  Morgan.  We  were  about  a  mile  from 
the  enemy's  lines.  In  our  line  of  advance  the  roads  had  been 
destroyed,  obstacles  of  all  kinds  strewed  in  our  way,  and  prog- 
ress was  impossible.  Gen.  Sherman  desired  us  to  push  to  the 
bluffs,  but  this  was  impossible  through  such  obstructions  as 
we  encountered. 

At  8  A.  M.  150  guns  opened  upon  the  Confederate  position, 
and  for  hours  rained  shot  and  shell  upon  the  bluffs.  From 
bush  and  rock,  tree  and  hummock,  there  appeared,  as  if  by 
magic,  the  rebel  infantry.  These  troops  exhibited  great  courage 
and  determination  in  their  charge.  The  Federal  troops  here 
charged  the  rebels,  driving  them  back  to  their  very  rifle  pits 
where  they  were  protected  from  our  fire  by  pits  and  barri- 
cades, but  we  were  compelled  to  fall  back.  We  had  fought 
our  way  to  them  through  a  murderous  fire;  a  rain  of  shot  and 
shell,  but  no  material  benefit  was  obtained  by  this  charge. 


A  VETERAN'S  STOKY  OF  THE  WAR.  25 

We  left  the  ground  covered  with  our  dead  and  dying.  The 
Fourth  Iowa  lost  120  killed  and  wounded  in  fifteen  minutes 
in  this  engagement.  Immediately  after  this  charge  there  was 
a  terrific  rain  storm.  Among  the  killed  of  the  Fourth  Iowa 
was  Lieut.  Pitzer,  Alexander  Tedford,  and  Alfred  Kelly; 
Fletcher  Smith  lost  his  arm.  All  these  were  from  Co.  F. 

We  were,  soon  after  this  battle,  served  with  orders  to  fall 
into  line  and  march  to  the  fleet.  None  were  allowed  to  speak 
above  a  whisper,  nor  to  make  any  noise  whatever.  At  last  we 
were  all  aboard.  The  fleet  immediately  proceeded  down  the 
Yazoo  river,  bound  for  Arkansas  Post  on  the  Arkansas  river. 
There  was  a  council  of  war  held  at  Milliken's  Bend.  It  was 
decided  to  attack  Arkansas  Post.  We  disembarked  about  ten 
miles  from  the  post.  Our  forces  were  so  arranged  as  to  almost 
surround  the  place.  Our  gunboats  and  batteries  opened  with 
terrific  effect,  mowing  down  the  enemy  in  piles.  One  shell 
from  one  of  our  gunboats  disabled  their  160  pound  cannon, 
and  killed  sixteen  men  at  a  single  shot.  When  a  solid  shot 
could  be  put  in  lenghtwise  of  the  rifle  pits  it  would  tear 
whole  lines  to  atoms.  We  were  close  upon  their  works,  and 
had  prepared  "for  a  bayonet  charge,  when  they  ran  up  the 
white  flag.  We  immediately  entered  their  works  taking  5,000 
prisoners.  Upon  entering  their  works  we  gazed  upon  a  sight 
of  horror  not  soon  to  be  forgotten.  The  dead  and  dismem- 
bered humanity;  the  dim  and  dying  eye,  in  which  the  pic- 
tures of  the  battle  still  lingered;  the  boy  of  tender  years,  the 
gray-haired  soldier,  the  mother's  hope,  the  father's  pride,  in 
one  red  burial  blent. 

But  to  resume.  There  were  other  posts  taken  while  we 
were  at  that  place — St.  Charles  and  Duval's  Bluff.  After  this 
the  main  body  returned  to  Vicksburg.  My  health  at  this  time 


26  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

was  not  good,  having  been  under  the  doctor's  care  a  greater 
part  of  the  time  since  I  was  sick  before.  My  appetite  was 
capricious — nothing  seemed  to  taste  good,  so  with  another 
soldier  I  thought  we  would  go  a  short  distance  and  try  to 
get  a  chicken.  We  had  not  gone  far  when  we  came  upon 
some  rebs  who  made  prisoners  of  us.  They  were  very  much 
enraged,  and  we  thought  they  would  shoot  us,  but  they 
finally  concluded  not  to  do  so,  but  took  us  to  Little  Rock, 
Arkansas,  where  we  were  paroled,  which  no  doubt  saved  my 
life;  being  much  reduced  in  strength  I  could  not  have  stood 
their  treatment  long. 

After  being  paroled  I  was  sent  to  Benton  barracks,  St. 
Louis,  where  I  was  soon  taken  with  lung  fever,  from  which  I 
recovered  in  due  time. 

I  now  obtained  a  leave  of  absence  and  returned  home, 
where  I  enjoyed  my  visit  very  much.  Upon  my  return  to  my 
regiment  I  felt  much  stronger.  During  this  stay  in  camp 
the  boys  would  amuse  themselves  and  employ  their  idle  time 
in  making  rings  of  mussel  shells,  and  other  material  suitable 
for  the  purpose.  We  could  dispose  of  our  shells  for  from  fif- 
teen cents  to  one  dollar  each.  I  also  read  the  New  Testament 
through  at  this  time. 

On  the  first  day  of  October,  1863,  I  went  to  the  front. 
Upon  our  arrival  at  St.  Louis  we  found  the  boat  was  not  ready 
to  go.  We  returned  to  our  barracks  and  remained  that  night. 
The  following  morning  we  left  by  boat  for  Memphis,  Ten- 
nessee. On  our  arrival  at  Memphis  we  remained  one  day  with 
the  invalid  corps.  Then  we  were  ordered  to  Corinth,  Missis- 
sippi; from  here  by  rail  to  luka,  where  I  found  the  boys  all 
right.  We  soon  passed  on  to  a  station  about  forty  miles  dis- 
tant called  Cherokee  Station.  While  here  C.  E.  Tibbies, 


A  VETEKAtf's  STOEY  OF  THE  WAE.  27 

Samuel  Wilderson  and  myself  were  successful  in  foraging  for 
food,  getting  an  ample  supply. 

This  was  wet  weather  and  we  were  thankful  to  be  in  a  dry 
place.  One  day  as  we  "were  about  eating  our  dinner  the  long 
roll  sounded,  which  was  the  signal  for  immediate  action;  we 
fell  into  line.  The  rebs  had  charged  our  camp  and  were  now 
entering  it.  The  reason  of  this  surprise  was  that  the  rebels  had 
donned  the  blue  and  we  at  first  thought  they  were  our  men. 
W.  Crandall  said,  "  don't  shoot  them,  they  are  our  own  men." 
Just  at  this  moment  the  rebs  opened  upon  us — killing  James 
Stafford.  Now  that  we  discovered  their  identity  we  charged 
them  and  drove  them  about  four  miles  through  a  drenching 
rain;  after  which  we  returned  to  camp.  This  shows  the  sub- 
terfuge which  the  rebels  were  always  ready  to  use.  Give  me 
the  manly,  upright  foe,  not  the  one  skulking  under  the  cloak 
of  friendship — until  he  can  strike  his  unsuspecting  foe.  The 
next  day  after  this  occurrence  we  were  ordered  to  prepare  for 
a  march.  The  next  day  we  proceeded  in  the  direction  of  Tus- 
cumbia,  Alabama.  About  3  o'clock  this  day  we  engaged  the 
enemy.  The  engagement  continued  throughout  the  day,  and 
tired  and  weary  we  went  on  picket  duty  that  night.  The 
next  morning  we  opened  on  the  rebels  with  two  parrot  guns, 
followed  by  a  dash.  They  retreated  toward  Tuscumbia,  Ala- 
bama, that  night.  We  returned  the  next  day  to  Cherokee 
Station.  On  the  following  morning  early  we  were  attacked 
by  a  large  force  of  rebels  before  we  were  out  of  bed.  We 
soon  formed  and  drove  them  back  twelve  miles.  This  engag- 
ment  was  in  rain  and  mud.  We  marched  on  fifteen  miles 
further  to  Chickasaw  Landing,  where  we  encamped.  Here 
we  were  mustered  for  our  pay.  After  this  we  were  marched 
to  Fayetteville,  Tennessee.  This  was  a  hard  and  fatiguing 


28  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

march.  We  halted  and  camped  for  a  few  hours  at  each  of 
the  following  places  on  our  march:  Maysville,  Alabama,  Bel- 
mont  and  Stevenson,  Alabama,  and  on  to  Bridgeport.  We 
camped  here.  Then  crossing  the  Tennessee  river  we  left  our 
teams  at  Shell  Rock.  Now  we  marched  on  around  Lookout 
Mountain  to  within  sight  of  the  enemy's  rifle  pits. 

When  we  received  our  sixty  rounds  we  were  convinced  some 
one  would  be  compelled  to  die.  The  next  morning  at  day- 
light we  formed  in  line  of  battle;  Gen.  Osterhaus  was  in  com- 
mand of  our  brigade.  We  marched  on  as  if  we  intended  to 
march  into  the  rebel  rifle  pits,  but  we  stopped  about  100  yards 
from  their  lines  and  remained  there  until  about  noon.  We 
were  placed  there  to  draw  the  attention  of  the  rebs  from 
Sherman  until  his  right  wing  could  surround  them.  We 
then  charged,  taking  250  prisoners.  We  then^charged  Look- 
out Mountain  and  fought  until  about  1  o'clock  at  night.  It 
seemed  to  us  we  were  above  the  clouds.  The  rebs  rolled  large 
stones  down  the  mountain  at  us.  It  was  raining  below  us, 
and  boulders  from  above.  Here  would  come  the  great  bould- 
ers down  the  mountain  side,  accompanied  by  a  streak  of  fire. 
Large  trees  were  crushed  off  like  straws.  These  boulders  were 
accompanied  by  lead  and  iron  hail. 

Our  division  moved  down  the  mountain  that  day,  driving 
the  enemy  before  them,  finally  reaching  the  enemy's  pits.  Here 
we  took  them  lengthwise.  A  terrible  fire  was  poured  out  by 
both  armies.  General  Grant  now  ordered  Thomas  to  advance 
and  take  the  rebel  rifle  pits  at  the  base  of  the  mountains. 
Sherman  was  then  driving  the  enemy  in  great  confusion,  and 
as  General  Thomas  drove  them  out  of  the  rifle  pits  they  con- 
tinued falling  back  through  a  gap  at  the  foot  of  Lookout 
Mountain  and  Mission  Ridge,  but  we  got  into  the  gap  first 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  29 

and  cut  them  off,  capturing  a  lot  of  prisoners  and  guns.  I 
was  then  sent  back  with  some  prisoners  some  six  miles  from 
the  battle  field,  and  even  there  it  seemed  terrible.  Thousands 
upon  thousands  of  muskets  firing  volley  after  volley  at  each 
other,  and  the  artillery  was  so  heavy  and  repeated  so  rapidly  that 
the  earth  six  miles  away  was  all  in  a  tremble.  It  seemed  far 
worse  to  me  there  than  when  I  was  engaged  in  the  fight  myself. 
General  Bragg's  army  and  Hardee's  command  all  fled,  routed 
completely,  toward  Ringgold.  Thousands  of  prisoners,  and 
small  arms  and  a  large  quantity  of  ammunition  were  taken  by 
us  from  the  confederates;  Hooker  pursued,  and  that  night  Mis- 
sion Ridge  blazed  with  Union  camp  fires.  On  the  26th  of  Octo- 
ber I  took  the  prisoners  left  in  my  charge  to  headquarters,  and 
then  went  to  my  regiment,  which  was  now  some  ten  miles  in 
Georgia,  and  the  next  morning  being  the  27th  of  November, 
we  again  made  an  attack  upon,  the  rebs,  on  the  Little  Chi- 
camauga  at  Ringgold,  Georgia,  and  on  Taylor's  Ridge,  and 
they  fought  desperately.  Our  brigade  marched  right  up  in 
front  of  their  artillery,  which  they  had  planted  in  the  gap 
between  the  mountains.  Here  the  Thirteenth  Illinois  was  sta- 
tioned, and  they  stuck  to  the  gap,  fighting  heroically,  but  were 
cut  up  badly,  while  my  regiment,  or  rather  the  Fourth  Iowa, 
of  which  I  was  a  member,  climbed  up  the  ridge.  We  could 
injure  the  enemy  but  little  for  they  would  lie  down  on  the 
top  of  the  ridge,  which  was  a  circle  in  form;  they  had  a  cross- 
fire upon  us.  It  was  a  very  bad  place  and  we  became  much 
demoralized,  when  the  Ninth  Iowa  came  to  our  relief  upon 
the  right.  We  cheered  and  rushed  forward  with  fixed  bayo- 
nets, reaching  for  them,  when  the  rebels  fell  back,  and  that 
vexed  us  very  much,  for  as  soon  as  were  on  equal  footing 
with  them  they  ran.  We  were  so  near  them  that  the  dead  on 


30  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

both  sides  would  fall  in  piles  together,  but  they  soon  fled,  and 
being  so  fleet  of  foot  we  followed  them  but  a  short  dis- 
tance, and  weary,  but  cheerful,  we  turned  our  attention  to 
caring  for  our  fallen  comrades.  The  Union  losses  in  this 
battle,  including  the  killed,  wounded  and  missing,  were 
reported  to  be  about  four  thousand.  More  than  six  thousand 
rebel  prisoners,  not  including  the  wounded,  were  here  cap- 
tured, besides  forty-two  pieces  of  artillery  and  many  thousand 
small  arms,  and  a  large  train.  The  loss  to  the  rebels  was  not 
known.  When  the  rebs  fell  back  upon  Taylor's  Ridge  in 
dismay  they  left  their  corn  meal,  sorghum  and  other  supplies. 
We  gathered  them  up.  I  ran  for  a  sack  of  meal,  which  I  got. 
C.  E.  Tibbies  got  some  sorghum,  so  by  and  by  we  had  some- 
thing to  eat. 

November  28th,  in  camp  on  Little  Chicamauga,  near  Ring- 
gold  in  Georgia.  Rained  all  day,  being  very  disagreeable. 
Next  day  we  moved  our  camp  up  in  the  timber.  It  was  very 
cold  and  we  were  without  tents  or  blankets,  and  nothing 
much  to  eat,  as  we  had  been  cut  off  from  our  supply 
wagons  so  long,  and  marching  and  fighting  all  the  time,  and 
it  being  so  cold  that  there  was  great  suffering  among  the 
soldiers.  On  the  30th,  C.  E.  Tibbies  and  I  went  out  to  see  if 
could  not  find  something  to  eat,  but  we  had  to  return  to  camp 
with  only  one  chicken. 


A  VETERANS  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  31 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Across  the  Tennessee — Barefoot  Soldiers — Clayville,  Alabama,  Warned 
by  Southern  Sweethearts — Captured. 

DECEMBER  7,  1863.  We  marched  back  near  Chatta. 
nooga  in  Tennessee.  Here  we  went  into  camp  near  the 
Georgia  line.  From  this  place  we  marched  through 
Chattanooga  and  crossed  the  Tennessee  river  twice  upon  our 
pontoon  bridges.  Finally  we  arrived  at  Bridgeport,  Alabama, 
where  we  remained  several  days  in  camp.  Upon  this  march 
we  were  without  tents  or  blankets.  In  fact  we  had  nothing 
to  shelter  us  from  the  inclement  weather,  and  the  only  beds 
were  branches  of  trees,  when  we  could  get  them,  or  the  cold, 
wet  ground.  We  were  nearly  barefooted.  After  we  were  in 
camp  here  we  drew  our  pay.  I  received  $182,  of  which  I  sent 
$160  home.  This  would  have  been  a  good  place  to  camp  in 
dry  weather,  but  during  our  stay  it  was  very  wet  weather. 
It  seemed  we  must  be  always  on  the  move,  so  in  a  few  days 
we  were  again  ordered  to  march,  so  we  proceeded  to  Steven- 
son, Alabama.  Here  we  enjoyed  a  Christmas  breakfast,  which 
we  received  in  trade  for  a  pig  which  we  had  bagged  that  morn- 
ing. We  fell  into  line  early  and  marched  eight  miles  that 
day,  which  brought  us  to  Scottsborough.  We  continued  to 
march  daily,  making  very  little  progress,  owing  to  the  bad 
roads  and  inclement  weather.  This  region  is  subject  to  very 
sudden  changes  in  temperature,  which  affect  a  northern  man 
more  than  the  steady  cold  of  the  north.  We  had  rain,  sleet, 
snow  and  mud  in  unstinted  quantity. 
January  1,  1864.  At  this  place  we  had  the  coldest  weather 


32  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

of  the  winter.  All  this  day  I  remained  in  camp  and  fed  the 
fire  with  rails. 

January  2,  1864.  We  moved  our  camp  south  to  Wood- 
ville,  a  dryer  and  more  desirable  spot.  Here  we  stayed  some 
time.  I  went  to  the  country  several  times  to  get  a  change  of 
food,  and  paid  fifty  cents  a  meal. 

There  was  considerable  excitement  in  our  camp  at  this 
time  about  re-enlisting  as  veterans,  as  our  time  was  almost 
served  out.  A  number  of  us  who  did  not  re-enlist  were  de- 
tached to  Clay ville,  Alabama,  to  guard  this  little  town  from  a 
large  bod}1  of  rebels.  There  was  only  about  forty  of  us. 
Our  boys  used  to  go  to  see  the  confederate  girls  in  town, 
which  enraged  the  rebel  soldiers  who  were  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  Tennessee  river  upon  which  the  town  was  located. 
We  would  go  down  to  the  river  bank  and  tell  the  rebels  on 
the  opposite  bank  how  we  were  courting  the  girls  in  town. 
This  would  make  them  so  mad  they  would  blaze  away  at  us 
across  the  river.  Our  little  force  were  in  a  very  dangerous 
position  here,  but  we  were  not  at  all  alarmed,  and  the  boys 
played  the  cavalier  to  the  southern  girls,  and  finally  some  of 
them  were  married  to  girls  of  this'place.  About  this  time  our 
captain  went  home  on  a  furlough,  and  a  strange  lieutenant  was 
placed  in  command,  who  was  a  very  incompetent  man.  His 
first  act  was  to  remove  the  guard  from  the  river.  The  men 
expostulated  with  him,  stating  they  would  rather  stand  guard 
than  to  give  the  rebs  a  chance  to  surprise  us.  We  were  also 
told  by  our  rebel  girls  that  we  would  be  surprised  and  all  be 
killed  if  we  were  not  on  our  guard.  And  so  it  proved  to  be; 
after  this  worthless  officer  had  withdrawn  the  guards  from 
the  river  we  were  at  tke  mercy  of  our  foes.  We  were  only 
forty  strong  and  slept  in  some  shanties  erected  for  barracks. 


A  VETERAN'S  STOKY  OF  THE  WAR.  33 

One  night  we  were  awakened  by  loud  knocks  upon  our  doors, 
which  were  immediately  thrown  open  and  volley  after  volley 
of  small  arms  discharged  into  our  rooms.  As  soon  as  we 
were  dressed  we  returned  the  fire  with  effect,  but  were  forced 
to  surrender  by  the  overwhelming  numbers  of  the  confeder- 
ates. If  we  could  have  formed  in  company  they  would  not 
have  captured  us  so  easily,  if  at  all.  It  would  have  been 
better  to  have  died  then  and  there  than  to  have  suffered  the 
way  we  did  later  on,  while  in  their  hands.  I  always  thought 
it  was  wrong  to  send  so  small  a  force  so  far  away  from  assist- 
ance in  the  vicinity  of  so  large  a  body  of  rebels. 

After  our  surrender  we  were  stripped  of  everything  of 
value.  I  had  $65,  which  they  took;  also  my  best  clothes,  and 
my  boots.  Some  of  the  boys  were  stripped  nearly  naked; 
some  were  the  recipients  of  old  shoes,  but  twelve  were  left 
barefooted.  George  B.  Davis  had  some  money  in  a  belt  which 
escaped  the'  notice  of  our  captors,  which  he  magnanimously 
divided  between  us  when  we  reached  our  destination,  which 
proved  to  be  Andersonville  prison.  We  were  crossed  over  the 
river  that  night,  and  on  the  morning  of  January  15th,  we  were 
started  on  our  way  to  Rome,  Georgia. 


34  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Man's  Inhumanity  to  Man— Andersonville    Prison    Pen— Scenes    and 

Events. 

DEAR  reader,  I  wish  I  could  describe  the  place  to  which  we 
were  going,  but  no  tongue  can  tell,  no  pen  do  justice 
to  the  horrors  of  Andersonville  slaughter  pen. 

As  before  stated,  we  were  left  nearly  naked;  the  weather 
was  very  cold — which  was  sufficient  of  itself  to  produce  dis- 
ease in  healthy  men,  well  clothed  and  well  fed,  who  would 
have  to  undergo  the  treatment  we  did.  We  were  given  a 
very  small  ration  of  corn  meal,  and  were  informed  we  could 
have  just  fifteen  minutes  in  which  to  cook  it.  But  not  being 
furnished  with  any  cooking  utensils  we  could  do  nothing  with 
it.  Some  of  our  boys  tried  to  eat  it  and  others  threw  it  away. 
Under  these  conditions  we  took  up  our  march  for  Anderson- 
ville. We  were  marched  twenty-five  miles,  when  we  stopped 
for  the  night  in  an  old  house.  We  had  no  fire;  neither  sup- 
per nor  breakfast.  This  day  we  accomplished  thirty  miles. 
This  night  they  gave  us  one  pound  of  corn  meal  and  eight 
ounces  of  bacon  each,  which  was  to  last  us  two  days.  The 
next  day  as  the  sun  began  painting  the  eastern  sky  we  com- 
menced a  thirty-five  mile  walk.  That  night  as  the  guards 
slept,  one  of  our  boys  awakened  the  rest  of  us,  when  we 
attempted  to  make  our  escape;  but  we  found  our  legs  were  so 
swollen  and  stiff  that  we  Could  scarcely  stand,  much  less  walk 
far  enough  to  escape.  So  one  of  our  boys  called  to  the  guard 
to  awaken,  or  they  might  be  found  and  put  under  arrest. 

The  next  morning  we  found  that  snow  had  fallen  two 


A  VETERANS  STORY  OF   THE  WAR.  35 

inches  deep.  The  suffering  of  those  who  were  bare-footed 
cannot  be  described.  With  our  feet  already  bleeding  and 
mangled  from  coming  in  contact  with  rough  surfaces,  and  the 
skin  actually  worn  out,  we  were  again  forced  to  march. 
While  we  were  stopping  a  few  minutes,  C.  E.  Tibbies,  who 
had  only  a  few  rags  tied  around  his  feet,  noticing  one  of  our 
party  whose  feet  were  mare  mangled  than  the  rest,  told  him 
to  ask  the  guard  to  take  him  to  a  house  near  by  and  ask  for 
some  rags  to  tie  about  his  feet,  which  he  did.  The  woman— 
if  it  is  proper  to  call  her  a  woman — cursed  him,  called  him  an 
abolitionist,  and  said  she  would  scald  him  if  he  did  not  get  out 
of  her  house.  We  marched  on.  I  am  sure  we  could  have 
been  tracked  by  the  blood  left  on  the  snow  the  last  two  days. 
About  dark  of  this  day  we  reached  Rome.  We  were  marched 
up  the  main  street  to  a  large  three-story  brick  house.  This 
house  was  filled  with  prisoners — I  believe  all  of  them  suspects 
and  deserters  from  the  rebel  army.  When  they  saw  us  they 
called  out:  "Hang  them!  Bring  them  up,  we  will  snatch 
them  bald!"  But  when  we  were  ushered  into  the  room  with 
these  men,  and  our  guards  had  gone,  we  found  they  were  our 
friends.  It  can  easily  be  understood  why  they  threatened  us 
in  the  presence  of  the  guards.  When  we  were  alone,  they 
shook  hands  with  us,  and  showed  the  deepest  feeling  for  our 
distress.  They  gave  us  their  rations,  divided  their  tobacco 
with  us,  and  made  us  as  comfortable  as  possible.  They  re- 
ceived with  eagerness  our  information  regarding  our  lines, 
and  how  they  could  reach  them  if  they  had  a  chance  to  run 
for  it. 

The  next  morning  we  were  put  on  the  cars  and  conveyed  to 
Atlanta.  Here  we  were  kept  in  a  pen  for  ten  days,  with  shel- 
ter for  only  a  part  of  us.  For  rations,  we  drew  one  pound  of 


36  A  VETERAN  S  STORY  OF   THE  WAR. 

meal  and  three-quarters  of  a  pound  of  spoiled  beef  per  man. 
To  add  to  the  discomfort  of  our  situation,  the  snow  fell  to  the 
depth  of  about  four  inches  while  we  were  in  this  pen,  and  our 
feet  were  cut,  swollen  and  ready  to  burst  from  our  long  march 
over  ice  and  snow  bare-footed.  Such,  dear  reader,  was  the 
suffering  of  our  men,  that  out  of  twelve  who  were  bare-foot 
at  this  time,  only  two  were  alive  three  months  later,  viz:  C. 
E.  Tibbies  and  myself. 

In  this  condition  we  were  taken  to  Andersonville  by  rail; 
the  night  we  arrived  was  dark  and  rainy;  when  once  inside 
the  walls,  and  our  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  lights  and 
shadows  of  the  place,  we  could  see  men  sitting  in  groups  in 
all  directions,  small  blue  flames  issued  from  the  ground,  which 
we  soon  learned  were  from  the  resinous  roots  of  pine  stumps 
which  the  prisoners  had  tired  to  warm  by,  and  the  roots  had 
burned  deep  into  the  sandy  soil,  and  sent  forth  smoke  con- 
tinually. 

Some  of  our  boys  remarked:  "  See  those  poor  starved 
negroes;  it  is  shameful  to  treat  them  so."  But  when  morn- 
ing came,  we  found  that  they  were  not  negroes,  but  some  of 
our  own  brave  boys,  whom  starvation  and  exposure  had 
reduced  to  skeletons,  and  blackened  by  smoke  and  filth,  had 
the  color  of  negroes. 

Next  morning  I  looked  over  our  pen,  and  found  it  to  be 
about  fourteen  acres  in  extent,  three  acres  of  which  was 
swamp.  There  was  not  a  tent  or  even  a  board  to  shelter  the 
sick  and  dying,  the  violent  storms,  the  merciless  heat  of  the 
sun  above,  the  millions  of  crawling  maggots  which  literally 
covered  every  inch  of  ground,  and  other  vermin  which  could 
easily  be  discovered  by  putting  the  foot  upon  the  ground  for 
a  few  moments  and  then  examining  it.  There  was  no  place 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  37 

for  a  man  to  lie  down,  and  I  did  not  lie  down  the  first  night. 
As  before  stated,  out  of  twelve  bare-foot  prisoners  of  our 
squad,  after  two  months  but  two  were  living,  viz:  C.  E. 
Tibbies  and  myself. 

The  mode  of  death  of  these  ten  prisoners  was  of  the  same 
character,  indicating  death  from  B right's  disease  of  the  kid- 
neys. Extensive  dropsy  of  the  feet  and  legs  would  con:e  on, 
eventually  the  feet  would  burst;  but  several  died  before  this 
occurred.  At  night  the  sand  was  cold,  during  the  day  it  was 
hot.  Our  bed  was  upon  the  naked  earth,  and  our  covering  no 
less  than  the  blue  canopy  of  the  starry-decked  heavens.  When 
we  first  came  to  this  prison  there  were  only  about  six  thou- 
sand prisoners,  but  afterwards  they  sent  all  their  prisoners  to 
this  place,  until  there  were  so  many  that  we  could  not  all  lie 
down  at  one  time.  We  were  without  clothing,  except  when 
some  prisoner  was  fortunate  enough  to  steal  a  meal  sack,  with 
which  he  would  endeavor  to  cover  himself  from  the  heat  of 
the  day  and  the  chill  of  the  night.  So  numerous  were  the 
sick  and  dying  that  the  scarcely  less  feeble  and  starving  com- 
panions could  do  nothing  to  render  them  assistance.  So 
numerous  were  the  cries  for  assistance,  that  should  a  well  man 
attempt  to  pass  from  one  side  to  the  other  of  our  prison,  and 
stop  to  assist  each  one  who  implored  him  piteously  for  assist- 
ance to  rise,  or  for  a  drink  of  water,  he  would  not  make  the 
journey  in  a  week.  I  am  witness  to  the  fact,  that  many 
young  men  in  good  health,  whose  hair  was  black  as  the  raven, 
did,  in  twenty-four  hours,  become  raving  maniacs, — whose 
hair  became  as  white  as  the  driven  snow  before  the  third  day's 
imprisonment.  The  food  allowed  each  prisoner  daily  was  one 
pint  of  corn  meal  and  four  ounces  of  meat.  The  meat  was 
not  such  as  would  tempt  the  appetite  of  any  but  starving  men. 


38  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

This  quantity  was  insufficient,  so  we  were  always  hungry.  It 
was  the  universal  testimony  of  the  prisoners  that  whenever 
they  went  to  sleep,  they  would  dream  of  something  to  eat. 
We  would  constantly  dream  of  eating,  and  as  certainly  awaken 
as  we  were  about  to  taste  the  food.  I  presume  our  anxiety  to 
taste  the  food  would  awaken  us. 

Rain  had  its  benefits  as  well  as  its  disadvantages, — when  it 
rained,  the  stream  that  ran  through  the  pen  would  be  purified 
to  some  extent;  at  the  same  time,  every  hard  rain  actually 
drowned  many  of  our  poor  boys;'  many  of  them  too  weak  to 
help  themselves,  would  be  strangled  to  death  by  the  rain  strik- 
ing them  in  the  face.  One  night  when  we  had  a  particularly 
severe  storm,  more  than  two  hundred  perished  in  this  way. 
And  yet  there  are  men  to-day  who  cry,  "down  with  the  bloody 
shirt."  You  must  not  say  anything  to  hurt  the  feelings  of 
the  rebel  or  his  copper-colored  accomplices  of  the  north,  "For 
Brutus  is  an  honorable  man/' 

It  was  some  time  in  April, — we  were  not  dying  off  fast 
enough  to  suit  the  Southern  Confederacy, — so  one  morning 
we  were  called  up  in  line  and  "  vaccinated  "  with  a  deadly 
virus,  which  in  all  probability  was  poison  taken  from  the 
decaying  corpses,  for  the  material  caused  symptoms  identical 
with  those  which  follow  dissecting  wounds.  A  lot  of  boys 
were  sent  in  to  act  as  surgeons;  these  boys  would  vaccinate 
one  day,  and  in  a  few  days  would  take  all  the  arms  off  at  the 
shoulders,  of  those  who  did  not  die  from  the  vaccination. 

One  of  our  boys  who  was  detailed  to  bury  the  dead,  said 
that  one  day  he  would  receive  a  great  many  arms  to  bury,  and 
the  next  day  he  would  get  the  same  number  of  armless  bod- 
ies. 

Many  of  our  boys  suspected  they  were  being  poisoned,  and 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR,  39 

would  find  some  way  to  cut  out  the  part  where  the  poison  was 
inserted,  and  thereby  saved  their  lives.  C.  E.  Tibbies,  George 
N.  Tibbies  and  myself,  for  several  months  after  making  our 
escape  from  prison,  were  afflicted  with  dreadful  sores;  we 
were  attended  by  the  best  of  physicians.  I  escaped  vaccination, 
having  had  the  small-pox  previous  to  my  admission.  But 
after  I  left  Andersonville  I  suffered  from  "scurvy"  and  blood 
poisoning,  and  diseases  of  the  lungs,  which  usually  resulted  in 
all  those  cases  where  a  man  was  confined  long  enough,  but 
lived  to  get  out. 

These  poor  fellows  would  frequently  have  large  ulcers 
form  under  the  arms,  which  would  usually  result  in  slough- 
ing of  the  flesh  covering  the  sides.  This  threw  open  the  way 
to  vermin,  which  soon  found  its  way  beneath  the  surface,  and 
ended  the  victim's  life  by  attacking  the  vital  organs;  to  use  a 
homely  expression,  they  were  eaten  up  alive.  About  one 
hundred  and  twenty  dead  were  carried  out  and  laid  by  the 
gate  each  morning.  The  appearance  of  these  bodies  was  too 
shocking  to  be  described  in  a  book  of  this  kind. 


40  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Providence  Springs — Trial  of  Mosby's  Gang — Death   Warrant  Signed 
by  Abraham  Lincoln — Attempts  to  Escape. 

IT  is  true  that  in  the  Andersonville  prison,  during  the 
month  of  August,  at  a  time  when  the  water  in  the 
branch  had  become  scarce  and  foul  and  the  captive 
Unionists  were  dying  by  hundreds  for  want  of  pure  water;  it 
is  undoubtedly  a  fact,  and  whether  it  was  a  "special  provi- 
dence" or  not,  as  most,  if  not  all,  of  those  wretched  prisoners 
believed,  it  served  all  the  purposes  of  one.  Of  the  origin  of 
this  spring:  during  the  month  of  August,  1864,  the  water  in 
the  branch  was  indescribably  bad.  Before  the  stream  entered 
the  stockade,  it  was  rendered  too  filthy  for  any  use  by  the 
contaminations  from  the  camp  of  the  rebel  soldiers,  situated 
above  the  prison.  Immediately  upon  entering  the  stockade, 
its  pollution  became  terrible;  the  oozy  seep  at  the  bottom  of 
the  hillside  drained  directly  into  it,  all  the  filth  from  a  popu- 
lation of  thirty-three  thousand.  Imagine  the  condition  of  an 
open  sewer  through  the  heart  of  a  city  of  that  many  people, 
and  receiving  all  the  offensive  products  of  so  dense  a  popula- 
tion into  a  shallow,  sluggish  stream,  a  yard  wide  and  five 
inches  deep,  heated  by  the  burning  rays  of  the  sun  at  the 
thirty-second  parallel  of  latitude.  At  this  awful  extremity, 
what  was  the  astonishment  and  gratitude  of  the  camp  one 
morning,  when  it  was  discovered  that  during  the  night  a 
large,  bold  spring  had  burst  out  upon  the  north  side,  about 
midway  between  the  branch  and  the  summit  of  the  hill,  and 
was  pouring  out  a  grateful  flood  of  pure,  cold  water,  in  an 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  41 

apparently  inexhaustive  quantity.  This  was  the  morning  of 
August  13,  1864.  The  overjoyed  Union  prisoners  christened 
it  "Providence  Springs." 

Andersonville  prison  contained  prisoners  of  almost  every 
race.  I  noticed  Indians,  Chinese,  Germans,  Swedes,  English- 
men and  Negroes.  There  were  surgeons,  ministers,  artists, 
mechanics  and  musicians.  The  rebels  were  anxious  to  get  the 
mechanics  to  work  for  them,  for  which  they  gave  an  extra 
amount  of  food,  of  better  quality,  and  furnished  them  shelter. 
But  those  who  accepted  of  these  offers  were  marked  by  us, 
and  upon  their  return  to  prison  we  shaved  one  side  of  their 
heads,  this  was  always  done  as  a  punishment  for  assisting  our 
enemies.  Our  physicians  were  generally  detached  to  assist 
as  hospital  stewards,  where  they  did  good  work  for  our  poor 
boys.  There  was  a  fellow  known  as  Jim  Malloy,  who  was  a 
great  sleight  of  hand  performer;  he  had  three  assistants.  It 
seemed  that  bolts  and  bars  would  not  hold  him.  One  night 
Jim  and  his  three  assistants  were  fastened  to  an  iron  bar  by 
means  of  devices.  Malloy  was  quite  a  ventriloquist,  and  dur- 
ing the  night  the  ignorant  guard  who  stood  over  them,  was 
startled  by  a  solemn  voice  from  the  clouds,  warning  him  of 
the  vengeance  to  come  upon  the  rebels  for  their  cruelty  to  the 
Union  prisoners,  and  while  the  guard  stood  trembling,  be- 
hold the  bars  fell  from  their  limbs,  anjl  they  made  their  es- 
cape without  hindrance. 

Jim  Malloy  was  supposed  to  be  a  spy;  he  escaped  ten  or 
twelve  times,  but  was  always  recaptured.  I  think  he  always 
made  his  way  to  our  lines  and  reported,  when  he  would  allow 
himself  to  be  retaken. 

There  was  a  man  in  the  prison  named  Mosby;  he  was  first 
a  bounty  jumper,  but  afterwards  raised  a  company  of  one 


42  A  VETERANS  STORY  OF   THE  WAR. 

hundred  men  and  bushwacked— first  on  one  side  and  then  on 
the  other.  Finally  he  offered  himself  and  men  to  Mosby 
on  the  Potomac.  But  contrary  to  his  expectations,  he  was 
taken  with  all  his  men,  and  sent  to  Andersonville.  Here  he 
and  his  band  formed  themselves  into  a  raiding,  robbing  gang 
of  thieves  and  murderers.  They  would  knock  down  the  weak 
and  the  sick  and  take  their  rations  from  them;  also  anything 
else  they  had  which  they  themselves  wanted.  Prisoners 
knocked  down  by  this  gang  usually  died  of  their  wounds  and 
sometimes  were  killed  outright.  Finally  the  rest  of  the 
prisoners  associated  together  for  mutual  protection.  We 
arrested  him  and  his  gang,  and  got  permission  from  General 
Winder  to  try  them  for  their  lives.  We  chose  a  judge  and 
jury — several  lawyers  volunteered  for  the  prosecution;  Mosby 
had  some  money,  and  hired  the  best  counsel  in  the  camp  for 
his  defense.  Each  man  was  tried  separately.  The  court  was 
in  session  several  weeks.  The  jury  found  six  guilty,  and  the 
judge  sentenced  them  to  be  hung  until  dead.  The  papers 
were  then  sent  to  Washington,  and  came  back  signed  by  Abra- 
ham Lincoln.  The  day  of  execution  came,  and  they  were  hung. 
The  pleading  was  as  good  as  was  ever  heard  in  a  trial  of  this 
kind.  The  rebel  officers  and  privates  would  come  and  listen 
for  hours  to  the  speeches,  and  examination  of  witnesses. 
General  Winder  was  present  one  whole  day,  and  seemed  to 
have  his  curiosity  aroused  by  the  legal  lore  displayed  by  Uncle 
Sam's  private  soldiers. 

The  weather  now  became  intensely  hot,  and  as  we  had  no 
hats,  and  no  shelter  from  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun,  we  were 
burned  by  the  heat  and  the  reflection  from  the  sand  until  the 
skin  would  blister  and  form  scabs  over  our  faces,  hands  and 
feet;  the  pain  of  these  burns  was  hard  to  bear;  it  resembled 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  43 

the  pain  felt  upon  being  burned  by  hot  iron.  The  wall  of  our 
prison  was  made  of  hewn  logs,  set  in  the  ground  six  feet,  and 
rising  above  the  surface  twenty  feet;  this  shut  off  all  the  air 
from  us,  and  acted  as  a  barrier  to  any  breezes  that  might 
come  that  way  and  blow  off  some  of  the  offensive  odors.  The 
air  we  breathed  and  the  water  we  drank  were  doing  their 
work.  An  army  of  frtsh,  healthy  prisoners  would  be  brought 
in,  and  in  a  few  days  they  would  begin  to  look  like  the  leaves 
in  fall  after  the  frost  has  touched  them;  in  a  few  more  days 
they  would  begin  to  disappear;  the  lines  of  dead  lying  just  out- 
side the  stockade  every  morning  would  tell  the  sad  story. 
The  rebel  doctors  claimed,  with  evident  satisfaction,  that  they 
were  killing^  more  men  than  Lee's  whole  army,  and  this  was 
true.  But  was  this  not  a  cowardly,  inhuman  depravity? 
Such  depravity  as  this  belongs  only  to  the  South;  no  North- 
ern soldiers  could  turn  themselves  into  such  inhuman  fiends. 

A  platform  ran  around  the  stockade  on  the  outside  for  the 
guards  to  walk  upon,  which  placed  them  head  and  shoulders 
above  the  stockade.  The  dead-line  was  twenty  feet  from  the 
wall,  and  the  poor  wretch  who  unwittingly  came  too  near  this 
line,  was  shot  down  with  as  much  deliberation  and  heartless- 
ness  as  one  would  shoot  at  a  target.  Very  often  when  a 
prisoner  would  attempt  to  cross  the  branch,  the  guard  would 
shoot  him,  and  the  amber-colored  stream  would  blush  again 
with  loyal  blood,  and  another  rebel  soldier  get  a  furlough  for 
taking  the  life  of  a  Yankee. 

We  were  constantly  making  tunnels;  almost  every  night 
some  of  us  would  get  out,  only  to  be  caught  by  bloodhounds 
and  then  punished.  We  would  use  a  piece  of  tin  canteen  to 
dig  with;  the  dirt  we  would  throw  around  where  we  slept,  to 
make  believe  we  were  fixing  a  place  to  sleep. 


44  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

We  came  near  all  getting  out  one  day;  we  had  organized 
into  regiments  and  divisions;  officers  were  elected;  we  all  had 
clubs.  We  had  worked  until  one  whole  side  of  the  prison 
was  ready  to  fall;  we  intended  to  charge  the  battery  the  first 
thing,  but  when  we  were  about  ready  to  make  a  break,  we 
found  that  one  of  our  soldiers  had  divulged  our  plans.  The 
traitor  was  taken  out  of  prison,  and  that  saved  his  life,  for  we 
would  have  killed  him  if  we  could  have  found  him.  One  of 
our  boys  said  that  he  knew  the  traitor,  and  that  he  would  kill 
him  if  he  ever  saw  him.  if  it  was  twenty  years  after,  should 
he  live  to  get  out  himself.  After  this  the  rebels  stopped  our 
rations  one  day  and  had  all  the  earth  filled  in  again. 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  45 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Many  Plans  for  Escape — Negroes'  Singing — News  from  Atlanta — Rate 
of  Deaths,  one  every  Eleven  Minutes. 

rPHE  prisoners  were  constantly  devising  every  plan  for  escape. 
•*•  There  was  a  company  of  about  thirty-five  laid  a  plan  for 
escaping  by  drawing  themselves  up  with  a  rope  made  out 
of  rags  strong  enough  to  bear  the  weight  of  a  skeleton.  But 
like  hundreds  of  others  they  were  caught  in  the  act  of  getting 
out,  while  others  were  chased  and  caught  and  torn  by  the 
thirsty  blood-hounds.  Some  were  even  torn  to  pieces,  but  as 
this  party  was  progressing  nicely,  as  they  thought,  about 
fifteen  had  reached  the  summit  of  the  stockade,  and  got  on 
the  outside,  when  the  voice  of  a  rebel  guard  rang  out,  "Halt, 

there,  you  d Yank."     That  was  enough,  the  game  was 

up.  They  were  discovered,  and  the  remaining  twenty  left 
that  locality  with  all  the  speed  in  their  power,  getting  away 
just  in  time  to  escape  a  volley,  which  a  squad  of  guards, 
posted  in  the  lookouts1  poured  upon  the  spot  where  they  had 
been  standing. 

The  next  morning  the  fifteen  who  had  got  over  the 
stockade  were  brought  in,  each  chained  to  a  sixty-four  pound 
ball.  This  happened  before  they  got  to  the  dead-line.  Their 
story  was  that  one  of  the  prisoners,  who  had  become  cog- 
nizant of  their  scheme,  had  sought  to  obtain  favor  at  the 
rebels'  hands  by  betraying  them.  The  rebels  stationed  a 
squad  at  the  crossing  place,  and  as  each  man  dropped  down 
from  the  stockade  he  was  caught  by  the  shoulder  and  the  muz- 


46  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

zle  of  a  revolver  thrust  into  his  face.  It  was  expected  that 
the  guards  in  the  sentry  boxes  would  do  such  execution 
among  those  that  were  still  inside,  as  would  be  a  warning  to 
others  who  should  try  to  escape.  They  were  defeated  in  this, 
for  the  prisoners  scattered  and  fled  from  that  place,  and  the 
man  that  divulged  the  plan  was  rewarded  with  a  detail  into 
the  commissory  department  where  he  fed  and  fattened  like  a 
rat  that  had  secured  undisturbed  homestead  rights  in  the  cen- 
ter of  a  cheese.  •  When  the  miserable  remnant  of  us  were  leav- 
ing Andersonville  months  afterward,  he  could  be  seen  round 
and  sleek  and  well-clothed,  lounging  leisurely  in  the  door  of  a 
rebel  tent.  He  was  one  of  those  milk  and  water  men,  such 
as  we  always  have  among  us.  They  are  no  good.  They  can- 
not be  trusted  under  any  circumstances. 

One  time  some  traitor  reported  a  tunnel  when  there  was 
none,  and  the  old  captain  stopped  the  rations  of  the  entire 
prison  till  we  would  tell  them  where  the  tunnel  was.  In 
order  to  save  the  prisoners,  two  poor,  starved  wretches  vol- 
unteered to  start  a  tunnel,  and  when  they  got  it  started  they 
went  to  Wirze  and  told  him  that  they  were  the  men  that  had 
started  the  tunnel,  and  the  prisoners  drew  rations  again.  But 
alas,  these  two  poor  wretches  were  taken  and  tied  up  by  the 
thumbs,  and  when  they  were  cut  down,  they  both  fell  to  the 
ground.  One  of  them  finally  got  on  his  feet,  but  the  other  one 
expired.  See  what  suffering  one  villainous  traitor  can  cause. 

These  are  the  class  of  men  that  banded  themselves  together 
as  raiders  to  rob  the  sick  and  dying.  One  day  my  comrade,  C. 
E.  Tibbies  traded  with  the  guard  and  got  a  small  box  of 
tobacco  for  which  he  paid  five  dollars  in  greenbacks  worth 
fifty  dollars  in  confederate  money.  He  intended  to  trade  part 
of  his  tobacco  for  corn  meal  or  something  else  to  eat,  and  one 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  47 

of  those  raiders  came  to  him.  However,  Tibbies  did  not  know 
it  was  a  raider,  and  the  raider  told  him  he  would  trade  him 
meal  for  tobacco,  and  asked  him  to  go  with  him  up  where  the 
meal  was.  Tibbies  followed  him  until  he  got  in  the  midst  of 
the  raider  gang,  and  they  took  the  tobacco  and  divided  it 
among  themselves  and  told  Tibbies  he  had  better  get  away, 
and  Tibbies  took  them  at  their  word  arid  went  away,  for  he 
had  heard  of  them,  but  had  never  had  a  racket  with  them 
and  did  not  desire  one.  But  he  came  on  and  told  how  they 
had  treated  him,  and  it  enraged  us  against  the  raiders,  and  our 
sergeant,  W.  W.  Crandall,  said,  uby  Him  that  liveth,  we  will 
have  that  tobacco  or  blood." 

We  were  soon  armed  with  clubs,  which  had  been  prepared 
before  for  their  benefit. 

Crandall  marched  his  men  up  to  the  man  that  got  the 
tobacco  and  demanded  it,  and  he  remarked:  "Here  is 
where  you  get  it,"  and  grabbed  a  club  and  gave  the  signal 
for  fight,  and  in  less  than  three  minutes  there  were  seventy- 
five  raiders  on  the  spot  armed  with  clubs.  The  fight  opened 
at  once,  but  we  soon  found  that  we  had  undertaken  more  than 
we  could  accomplish,  as  they  outnumbered  us  six  to  one. 
They  rushed  around  us  with  a  hop  as  though  they  were  going 
to  have  some  fun,  but  we  made  it  hot  for  them  for  a  short 
time,  that  is,  until  we  could  get  away.  Our  clubs  were  about 
four  feet  in  length  and  about  the  right  heft  to  handle  well, 
and  we  plied  them  right  and  left  until  we  had  wounded 
fifteen,  and  one  mortally. 

Every  man  in  our  squad  got  wounded  but  none  mortally. 
We  were  always  on  the  lookout  after  that,  and  never  let  them 
get  the  advantage  of  us  again. 

They  attempted  to  make  a  raid  on  us  one  night  about  mid- 


48  A  VETERAN'S  STOUY  OF  THE  WAR. 

night,  but  we  were  on  guard  and  we  soon  repulsed  them  and 
drove  them  from  our  camp.  They  were  continually  harrass- 
ing  the  prisoners,  and  kept  them  in  constant  dread. 

We  were  much  interested  in  the  negroes'  singing. 

They  wove  in  a  great  deal  of  their  peculiar,  wild,  mournful 
music,  according  to  the  character  of  their  labor.  They 
seemed  to  sing  the  music  for  the  music's  sake  alone,  and  seemed 
heedless  of  the  fitness  of  the  accompanying  words.  One  mid- 
dle aged  man,  with  a  powerful,  mellow,  clear  voice,  was  the 
musical  leader  of  the  party;  he  never  seemed  to  bother  him- 
self about  air,  notes  or  words,  but  impressed  all  as  he  went 
along;  and  he  sang  as  the  spirit  moved  him.  He  would  sud- 
denly break  out  with, 

"Oh  he's  gone  up  dah,  nevuh  to  come  back  again." 
at  this  every  darkey,  within  hearing,  would  break  out,  in  ad- 
mirable consonance  with  the  pitch,  air  and  time  started  by 
the  leader,  "o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o !"    Then  would  ring  out  from 
the  leader  as  from  the  throbbing  lips  of  a  silver  trumpet, 

"Lord  bless  him  soul!  I  done  hope  he  is  happy  now!" 
and  the  two  hundred  would  chant  back  "o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!" 
and  so  on  for  hours.  They  never  seemed  to  weary  of  singing 
and  we  certainly  did  not  of  listening  to  them.  The  absolute 
independence  of  the  manner  and  tune  and  sentiment,  gave 
them  freedom  to  wander  through  camp  with  harmonic  effect, 
as  spontaneous  and  changeful  as  the  song  of  a  bird. 

I  have  sat  evening  after  evening,  with  some  comrade  and 
listened  to  them  sing  and  chant,  long  after  the  shadows  of 
night  had  fallen  upon  the  hillside. 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  49 

THE  NEGRO  SINGING    AT  NIGHT. 

And  the  voice  of  his  devotion 
Filled  my  soul  with  strong  emotion; 
For  its  tones  by  turns  were  glad, 
Sweetly  solemn,  wildly  sad. 

Paul  and  Silas,  in  their  prison, 
Sang  of  Christ,  the  Lord  arisen, 
And  an  earthquake's  arm  of  might 
Broke  their  dungeon  gates  at  night. 
But,  alas  what  holy  angel 
Brings  the  slave  this  glad  evangel? 
And  what  earthquake's  arm  of  might, 
Breaks  his  prison  gates  at  night? 

The  rebs  tried  every  plan  to  discourage  us,  but  that  was  of 
no  use  to  attempt  such  a  thing,  for  we  would  not  believe 
them,  and  we  well  knew  our  condition  could  not  be  worse. 
When  Sherman  was  fighting  at  Atlanta  we  could  get  but  lit- 
tle news  only  through  the  rebel  papers,  but  they  pretended  all 
the  time  that  Sherman's  defeat  was  certain. 

Next  came  news  that  Sherman  had  raised  the  seige  and  fal- 
len back  at  the  Chattahoohee,  and  we  felt  something  of  the 
bitterness  of  despair  for  several  days. 

Therefore  we  heard  nothing,  though  the  hot,  close  summer 
air  seemed  intense  with  a  war  storm  about  to  burst,  even  as 
nature  heralds  in  the  same  way  a  concentration  of  the  mighty 
force  of  the  elements  for  the  grand  crash  of  the  thunder- 
storm. We  waited  with  intense  expectancy  for  the  decision 
of  the  fates;  whether  final  victory  or  defeat  should  end  the 
long  and  arduous  campaign.  At  night  the  guards  in  the 
perches  around  the  stockade  called  out  every  half  hour,  so  as 
to  show  the  officers  that  they  were  awake  and  attending  to 
4 


50  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

their  duty.  The  form  for  this  ran  thus:  "Post  number  1; 
half-past  eight  o'clock,  and  a-l-T-s  w-e-1-1 !"  Post  No.  2  re- 
peated this  cry,  and  so  it  went  around. 

One  evening  when  our  anxiety  as  to  Atlanta  was  wrought 
to  the  highest  pitch,  one  of  the  guards  sang  out.  "  Post  No. 
4;  half  past  eight  o'clock — and  Atlanta's-gone-to-h 1 !" 

The  heart  of  every  man  within  hearing  leaped  upward. 
We  looked  toward  each  other  almost  speechless  with  glad  sur- 
prise, and  then  cried  out:  "  Did  you  hear  that."  The  next 
instant  a  ringing  cheer  burst  out  spontaneously  from  the 
throats  and  hearts  of  men  in  the  first  ecstatic  moments  of 
victory — a  cheer  to  which  our  sad  hearts  and  enfeebled  lungs 
had  long  been  strangers.  It  was  the  genuine,  honest,  manly 
northern  cheer,  not  like  the  rebel  yell.  But  the  shout  was 
taken  up  all  over  the  prison,  even  those  who  had  not  heard  the 
guard  understood  that  it  meant  Atlanta  was  ours,  and  fairly 
won. 

We  had  a  time  of  rejoicing;  we  assembled  together  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  stockade  and  sung  patriotic  songs  and 
made  speeches,  and  there  was  a  general  awakening  in  camp. 

It  set  our  thin  blood  to  bounding,  and  made  us  remember 
that  we  were  Union  soldiers,  with  higher  hopes  than  that  of 
starving  and  dying  in  Andersonville.  The  rebels  became 
excited  lest  our  exhaltation  of  spirit  would  lead  to  an  assault 
upon  the  stockade.  They  came  out  with  arms  and  remained 
so  until  the  enthusiasm  became  less  demonstrative.  The 
rebels  would  try  to  make  us  think  we  would  soon  be  ex- 
changed, which  would  cause  some  excitement,  but  all  hope 
would  soon  vanish,  and  the  prisoners  would  exclaim:  "No 
exchange  for  us  until  we  are  exchanged  to  that  eternal  God's 
country  where 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  51 

Sickness  and  sorrow,  pain  and  death, 
.  Are  felt  and  feared  no  more. 

The  wish  for  fame  is  faith  in  holy  things 
That  soothe  the  life,  and  shall  outlive  the  tomb. — 
A  reverent  listening  for  some  angel  wings 
That  come  above  the  gloom. 

The  weather  is  now  intensely  hot  and  thousands  of  our 
brave  comrades  have  already  descended  into  an  untimely  grave 
within  the,  last  few  months^  and  I  believe  their  death  was 
caused  by  the  filthy  camp,  and  the  want  of  good  food  and 
water,  proper  medicine,  and  the  breeding  of  lice  on  our 
poor  frames.  I  could  see  no  alternative  but  we  would  all 
very  soon  share  the  same  untimely  grave  of  our  comrades. 
Solemnity  seemed  to  rest  on  the  entire  camp.  Must  this  thing 
go  on?  Is  there  no  help?  I  had  a  great  yearning  to  be  up 
and  doing  something  to  turn  these  golden  hours  to  good, 
pressed  into  heart  and  brain  awakening  to  energetic  life.  But 
this  ambition  had  fled  from  thousands  of  our  brave  comrades. 

The  starving  and  the  heat  and  the  cruel  rains  sapped  away 
their  stamina,  and  they  could  not  recover  it  with  the  innutri- 
tious  diet  of  a  -little  coarse  meal  and  an  occasional  scrap  of 
poor  meat.  Quick  consumption,  bronchitis,  pneumonia,  low 
fever,  scurvy  and  diarrhoaa  seized  upon  these  ready  victims 
for  their  ravages,  and  bore  them  off  by  the  hundreds.  The 
appearance  of  the  dead  was  indescribable.  The  unclosed  eyes 
shone  with  a  stony  glitter,  the  lips  and  nostrils  were  distorted 
with  pain  and  hunger.  The  dirty,  grimed  skin  drawn  tensely 
over  the  bones,  and  the  whole  frame  with  the  long,  matted 
hair  and  beard.  As  I  have  stated  before,  you  could  not  tell 
a  dead  man  from  the  living  when  they  were  still,  if  it  was 
not  for  the  breathing  millions  of  lice  swarming  over  the 


52  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

wasted  limbs,  face  and  eyes.  These  verminous  pests  had 
become  so  numerous,  as  we  had  no  change  of  clothing,  and  no 
facilities  for  boiling  even  what  we  had.  The  best  that  any  of 
us  could  do  was  to  keep  the  number  reduced  so  they  would 
would  not  sap  our  blood  at  once.  When  a  man  became  so 
sick  or  poor  as  to  be  unable  to  help  himself,  he  soon  passed  out. 
The  number  of  the  lice  would  increase  to  multiplied  millions. 
I  have  heard  prisoners  say  that  they  had  seen  a  gallon  of  lice 
on  one  dead  man  at  one  time. 

No  doubt  but  the  biting  of  these  horrible  insects  shortened 
the  lives  of  those  who  died.  I  wish  to  impress  this  on  your 
mind;  think,  for  a  moment,  if  you  were  as  stout  as  Henan, 
and  you  were  cast  in  an  open  pen,  such  as  I  have  described; 
could  a  man  live  there?  No.  As  the  weather  grew  warmer 
and  the  number  in  the  prison  increased,  the  lice  became  more 
unendurable;  they  even  filled  the  sand;  and  they  would  crawl 
upon  us  like  streams  of  ants  running  up  a  tree.  I  thought  it 
must  be  something  like  Egypt  was  when  the  Lord  sent  the 
third  plague. 

"And  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses  say  unto  Aaron  stretch  out  thy  rod, 
and  smite  the  dirt  of  the  land,  that  it  may  become  lice  through  all  the 
land  of  Egypt.  And  they  did  so;  for  Aaron  stretched  out  his  hand  with 
his  rod,  and  smote  the  dust  of  the  earth,  and  it  became  lice,  and  all  the 
dust  of  the  land  became  lice  throughout  all  the  land  of  Egypt.1' 

We  could  have  gone  through  a  sharp  campaign,  lasting 
thirty  days,  and  not  lose  so  great  a  number  of  men  as  died  in 
AndersonviLle  in  the  same  length  of  time.  A  make  shift  of 
a  hospital  was  established  inside  the  stockade.  A  small  por- 
tion of  ground  was  divided  from  the  rest  of  the  prison  by  a 
railing,  and  a  few  tent  flies  were  stretched.  And  in  those 
they  used  pine  boughs  for  beds.  If  a  man  was  so  sick  that 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  53 

he  could  not  walk  about  and  was  taken  in  this  hospital  it 
was  sure  death,  and  almost  sudden.  This  was  the  sort  of  hos- 
pital we  had  in  Andersonville  for  our  sick  and  dying  comrades. 
What  was  needed  to  bring  about  health  was  clean  clothing, 
nutritious  food,  shelter  and  freedom  from  the  tortures  of  the 
lice  and  from  the  sight  of  the  horrors  of  such  a  prison.  And 
the  sick  was  fed  the  same  coarse  corn  meal  which  hurried  the 
poor  wretch  into  eternity.  They  wore  and  slept  in  the  same 
vermin-infested  clothing,  and  there  could  be  but  one  result. 
The  establishment  of  the  hospital  was  unfortunate  for  the 
prisoners.  The  ground  required  for  it  compelled  a  general 
reduction  of  the  space  we  all  occupied,  for  some  who  had 
shanties  built  with  pine  boughs  were  now  compelled  to  tear 
them  down  and  we  were  so  crowded  that  we  could  scarcely  all 
lie  down  at  the  same  time. 

The  chief  causes  of  the  deaths  were  the  scurvy  and  its  ef- 
fects, and  bowel  affections — chronic  and  acute  diarrhoBa  and 
dysentary.  The  bowel  affections  appeared  to  have  been  due 
to  the  diet,  the  dejected  state  of  the  nervous  system  and  moral 
and  intellectual  powers,  and  to  the  effluvia  arising  from  the 
filth  of  the  prison. 

The  great  disease  of  scurvy  seemed  to  be  prevalent;  this  dis- 
ease, without  a  doubt  was  also  caused,  to  a  great  extent,  in  its 
origin  and  course,  by  the  foul  animal  emanations.  From  the 
sameness  of  the  food  and  from  the  action  of  the  poisonous 
gases  in  the  densely  crowded  and  filthy  stockade  and  hospital. 
The  blood  was  altered  in  its  condition  even  before  the  mani- 
festation of  actual  disease. 

The  most  men  that  ever  died  in  Andersonville  was  one  man 
every  eleven  minutes,  except  the  night  we  had  a  severe  rain 
storm  when  two  hundred  perished.  The  boys  would  put  in  a 


54:  A  VETERANS    STORY   OF   THE   WAR. 

great  deal  of  time  killing  lice  and  looking  at  their  swollen 
legs  and  feet  and  working  with  their  sore  arms,  etc.,  etc. 

One  day  my  comrade,  C.  E.  Tibbies,  asked  a  poor  fellow 
what  our  feet  and  legs  looked  like?  He  replied  1  give  it  up. 
Charley  replied,  they  look  like  an  Irish  potato  with  two  goose 
quills  sticking  in  it. 

We  did  everything  we  could  to  keep  the  boys  roused  up 
as  we  well  knew  that  when  despondency  set  in  upon  them 
that  death  was  the  inevitable  result. 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  55 


CHAPTER  X. 

Terrible  Suffering — Trying  to  Effect  an  Exchange — A  Novel  way  of  Con- 
cealing Escaped  Prisoners — Escape  of  Three— Overtaken  by  Blood 
Hounds  and  Recaptured — The  Rebels  try  to  Enlist  the  Prisoners  of 
Andersonville  into  the  Rebel  Army. 

"On  Fame's  eternal  camping  ground 

Their  silent  tents  are  spread, 
While  Glory  guards  with  solemn  round, 

The  bivouac  of  the  dead." 

DEAR  reader,  although  it  is  now  more  than  twenty  years 
ago,  I  cannot  recur  to  these  horrors  without  gloomy  feel- 
ings; I  have  seen  hundreds  of  poor  men  sitting  about  the 
prison,  with  their  legs  buried  in  the  sand,  to  keep  them  from 
bursting,  they  were  so  swollen  with  the  scurvy;  and  I  have  often 
seen  poor,  starved  skeletons  pick  up  old  dry  bones  from  the 
sand  and  boil  them  to  make  soup.  Reader  it  is  worse  to  ex- 
perience these  suffering  than  to  read  of  them.  I  have  experi- 
enced allthat  I  have  written,  and  more  than  I  can  ever  tell, 
and  therefore  I  take  no  man's  word  for  it.  I  will  here  relate 
an  instance  portraying  the  undying  patriotism  of  those  suffer- 
ing prisoners.  We  held  a  meeting  while  at  Andersonville, 
by  permission  of  the  rebel  authorities,  and  there  appointed 
five  delegates  to  go  to  Washington  to  see  if  they  could  not 
effect  an  exchange.  The  terms  upon  which  the  rebels  agreed 
to  exchange  where  these:  "The  union  Government  was  to  re- 
lease all  their  prisoners  held  by  the  North,  and  the  rebels  to 
release  all  held  by  them,  the  excess  held  by  the  Union  army 
to  be  paroled."  When  those  terms  were  made  known  to  the 


56  A  VETERAN'S  STORX  OF  THE  WAR. 

prisoners,  it  was  upon  the  day  appointed  by  the  delegates  to 
start,  and  when  they  started,  the  prisoners  called  after  them 
as  long  as  they  could  make  them  hear,  uTell  old  Abe  never 
to  back  down  for  us,  we  can  stand  it  until  Sherman  comes, 
for  we  would  rather  die  than  back  down  to  rebs,"  etc.,  etc. 
I  have  known  some  of  the  prisoners  to  get  paints  of  the  guards 
and  make  ten-dollar  greenback  bills  and  trade  them  to  the  rebs 
for  good  money  or  something  to  eat — one  dollar  in  greenbacks 
being  worth  ten  dollars  in  Confederate  money — and  many 
other  little  things  they  resorted  to,  which  might  be  tiresome 
to  the  reader. 

It  finally  became  necessary  to  have  a  large  force  of  men 
to  bury  the  dead,  as  those  who  were  already  detailed  were  far 
behind  in  the  interment  of  the  bodies,  and  the  rebs  got  afraid 
that  they  would  create  a  pestilence  in  their  own  camps; 
another  detail  was  therefore  made,  and  I  managed  to  get  my- 
self and  some  of  my  comrades  placed  upon  it.  As  it  was  impos- 
sible for  a  man  to  work  on  the  rations  issued  in  the  prison, 
the  grave-diggers  were  allowed  double  rations.  We  were 
placed  upon  their  parole  and  allowed  to  go  anywhere  within 
a  mile  of  their  grave-yard.  The  arms  of  the  working  parties 
soon  became  very  sore  from  the  eff  cts  of  the  foul  vaccination, 
but  rather  than  go  back  into  the  pestilential  stockade  they 
would  swing  the  pick  with  one  arm;  even  when  so  sick  we 
could  not  eat  what  little  rations  we  received.  Some  of  the  pris- 
oners were  continually  breaking  out  of  the  stockade  and  for  a 
long  time  the  diggers  succeeded  in  effectually  concealing  them 
in  rather  a  novel  way:  there  was  always  a  long  line  of  dead 
bodies  awaiting  burial,  and  when  a  prisoner  came  to  us,  we 
would  shove  some  of  the  dead  bodies  slightly  apart  and  put 
the  escaped  and  living  skeleton  between  them,  and  when  his 


A  VETERAH'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  57 

eyes  were  closed  he  could  not  be  distinguished  from  the  dead. 
The  rebels  put  all  of  us  in  the  stockade  to  make  us  tell  where 
we  hid  those  who  had  escaped,  but  no  one  ever  divulged  it. 
So  when  night  came  on  we  would  give  the  escaped  prisoners 
our  rations  and  start  them  on  their  way.  One  day  a  rebel 
officer,  a  lieutenant,  came  to  us  and  proposed  for  us  to  break 
our  parole  and  run  away  to  our  lines  with  him,  as  he  knew 
the  country,  and  we  must  also  insure  him  good  treatment 
when  once  within  our  lines;  but  after  taking  the  matter 
under  consideration,  we  decided  not  to  do  it;  this  same  lieu- 
tenant gave  one  of  us  a  jacket  and  did  all  he  could  for  us. 
Many  of  the  diggers  did  escape,  and  finally  the  rebs  released 
us  from  our  parole  and  placed  a  guard  over  us.  Our  con- 
science being  now  free,  we  began  to  meditate  seriously  upon 
an  escape.  An  opportunity  soon  presented  itself.  The  rebs 
had  formed  guard  lines  around  the  grave-yard;  but  covered 
wagons  were  used  to  bring  dead  bodies  from  the  prison.  Two 
of  the  diggers  were  placed  in  each  wagon  upon  its  return  to 
the  stockade,  and  the  curtains  being  tied  down,  two  of  us 
would  slip  out  while  on  the  road  on  the  first  trip,  and  hid  in 
the  swamp  near  by  until  the  next  trip,  when  another  comrade 
and  a  fellow-prisoner  followed  us,  and  we  Immediately  took  up 
our  line  of  march  for  '"God's  country.'1'1  Our  path  lay  for 
miles  through  a  swamp,  and  at  every  step  we  would  stick  in 
the  mire  knee  deep,  except  when  we  could  step  upon  the  roots 
of  swamp  brush.  Sometimes  one  would  stick  fast,  and  the 
rest  of  us  would  pull  him  out  as  best  we  could  by  the  aid  of 
the  swamp  willows.  Although  weak  and  diseased,  we  toiled 
on  all  night  long;  the  "North  Star"  and  the  "Big  Dipper" 
were  our  guides. 
C.  E.  Tibbies,  George  N.  Tibbies  and  myself  have  gone 


58  A  VETERAN  S   STORY   OF   THE   WAR. 

together  all  through  the  war,  and  were  in  prison  together,  and 
were  now  trying  to  make  our  escape  from  Andersonville 
together;  but  knew  not  how  far  we  would  get. 

After  traveling  all  night  through  the  swamp  and  brush 
land,  and  crossing  several  fields,  we  were  very  tired,  and  sat 
down  upon  some  fallen  trees  to  rest  for  a  few  minutes;  but  had 
only  got  comfortably  settled  when  we  heard  the  baying  of  the 
hounds;  we  knew  then  that  our  enemies  were  close  upon  us; 
we  darted  into  the  dark  forest  and  ran ;  we  were  very  weak, 
but  we  ran  some  fifteen  miles  before  we  stopped.  On  and  on 
came  the  deep-mouthed  baying  of  the  hounds,  but  it  was 
difficult  for  them  to  make  way  through  the  swamp.  The 
sounds  became  fainter,  and  seemed  to  die  away  in  the  distance. 
We  now  continued  flight;  we  passed  through  hog  pens,  stock 
yards,  and  ran  back  and  forth  to  destroy  our  trail;  we  also 
ran  through  deep  sand,  hoping  when  we  pulled  out  our  feet 
the  sand  would  fill  in  and  cover  our  scent.  We  urged  our 
fast  failing  strength  and  pushed  on  until  morning,  when  we 
found  ourselves  upon  the  border  of  a  large  plantation,  and 
people  moving  about.  We  dare  not  cross  for  fear  of  discover- 
ing ourselves  to  the  occupants  of  this  place.  So  we  laid  our- 
selves down  in  a  small  piece  of  timber,  hoping  to  escape  notice 
until  night  should  give  us  cover  to  move  on.  During  the 
forenoon  we  saw  some  negroes  and  a  white  man  coming 
directly  towards  our  hiding  place.  We  concealed  ourselves  as 
best  we  could.  They  came  very  near,  and  the  white  man 
said,  pointing  to  a  small  tree.  "Here,  boys,  this  will  do." 
The  negroes  soon  cut  the  tree  down,  and  the  top  of  it  fell 
upon  the  bushes  beneath  which  we  were  hiding,  but  only 
served  to  hide  us  more  completely  from  view.  In  a  few  hours 
we  saw  a  negro  approaching  us  again,  upon  his  shoulder  he 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  59 

bore  an  ax.  He  came  up  to  within  fifteen  feet  of  us,  and 
looked  at  us  for  some  time.  When  C.  E.  Tibbies  raised  up 
and  started  towards  him  the  negro  raised  his  ax.  We  then 
told  him  that  we  were  his  friends,  and  charged  him  to  tell  no 
one  that  we  were  there.  He  said  he  would  not,  and  left  us. 
We  changed  our  position  a  little,  and  cut  each  man  a  good 
stout  club.  We  were  making  calculations  upon  crossing  the 
river  below  Sherman's  army  that  night,  when  we  would  be 
safe. 

Just  about  sunset  we  were  congratulating  ourselves  on 
having  given  the  hounds  the  slip,  when  the  distant  baying 
sent  a  thrill  of  horror  through  us  all.  Andersonville  was  before 
us  again,  with  all  its  dead  and  dying;  our  blood  stood  still. 
Nearer  and  near  came  the  yelping  of  the  hounds.  We  must 
do  something.  We  ran  from  our  hiding  place  and  agreed  if 
they  pressed  us  too  closely  we  would  scatter,  and  every  man 
take  care  of  himself.  We  had  not  half  cleared  the  field  when 
the  hounds  were  upon  us, — what  were  we  to  do? — it  was  too 
late  to  scatter  now.  Perplexing  as  was  our  situation,  we 
could  not  keep  down  a  hearty  laugh.  The  rebels  had  started 
with  forty  hounds,  but  ten  had  given  out  in  the  swamp.  The 
hounds  came  up  and  attacked  us  savagely.  We  kept  them 
from  tearing  us  with  our  clubs.  Here  came  the  keepers  on 
well  jaded  horses,  for  we  had  traveled  over  forty  miles  from 
late  the  evening  before.  We  were  now  upon  the  fence,  fight- 
ing the  dogs  off  with  our  clubs.  The  brutal  keepers  ordered 
us  to  get  down.  We  told  them  to  call  off  their  dogs  and  then 
we  would.  They  said  they  were  ordered  to  let  the  dogs  tear 
us,  at  the  same  time  drawing  their  revolvers.  We  told  them 
to  shoot,  that  we  would  as  lief  be  shot  as  to  return  to  Ander- 
sonville. One  was  about  to  shoot,  but  was  reminded  that  if 


60  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

he  shot  and  killed  any  of  us,  he  would  lose  his  one  hundred 
dollars  reward,  which  was  always  paid  for  capturing  an 
escaped  prisoner.  Still  it  seemed  we  were  to  die  at  the  hands 
of  the  men  and  thirty  hounds,  but  we  determined  we  would 
fight  with  our  last  breath. 

"For,  how  can  a  man  die  better, 

Than  facing  fearful  odds 
For  the  ashes  of  his  fathers 

4nd  the  temples  of  his  gods." 

As  an  instance  of  the  patriotism  of  our  soldiers,  I  wish  here 
to  cite  a  circumstance  of  prison  life: 

At  one  time  the  rebel  leaders  endeavored  to  enlist  the 
prisoners  in  Andersonville  into  the  rebel  army.  One  day  we 
were  ordered  to  form  into  companies,  with  the  proper  officers 
of  each  company  and  division  in  their  places,  and  to  march 
outside  the  prison  walls.  We  were  very  much  excited — many 
thought  we  were  to  be  exchanged.  We  could  not  divine 
what  it  was  for,  until  we  were  regularly  formed  outside,  when 
a  rebel  officer  mounted  a  stump  and  began  a  speech  to  us.  He 
informed  us  that  the  United  States  Government  had  left  us  to 
our  fate;  that  McClelland  and  other  Union  generals  had  said 
that  they  could  get  along  without  us;  that  the  Confederacy 
was  sure  to  succeed;  that  the  Northern  people  cared  nothing 
about  us,  and  would  never  try  to  rescue  'us.  Then  followed 
an  appeal  to  us  to  no  longer  endure  the  prison  pen,  but  to 
join  the  rebel  army,  and  each  of  us  should  have  a  farm  when 
the  Union  army  was  whipped.  No  sooner  was  he  understood, 
than  the  sergeant  of  our  division  sprang  out  and  shouted: 
Attention,  First  Division  !  This  was  repeated  down  the  line 
by  hundreds  of  other  sergeants.  He  shouted:  First  Division, 
About!  This  was  repeated  by  thousands,  as  one  voice.  Then 


A  VETERANS  STOEY  OF  THE  WAE. 


61 


he  said :  Face  !  Then  by  the  thousands  we  all  turned  on  our 
heels  and  came  to  order.  Forward,  march!  We  marched 
back  into  the  pen,  one  division  after  another,  and  left  the 
orator  standing  on  the  stump.  Here  we  view  another  instance 
of  the  devotion  of  our  boys  in  blue.  The  rebels  were  greatly 
provoked  at  the  failure  of  their  venture,  and  showed  it  by 
coming  into  our  pen*  in  armed  squads  on  the  pretense  of  look- 
ing for  spades  and  shovels,  and  destroyed  our  shanties,  stole 
our  blankets,  or  anything  else  they  wanted. 


62  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Return  to  Prison— Punishment— Confederate  Government  Knew  of  the 
Treatment  at  Andersonville— Jeff  Davis  Accessory  to  the  Murder  of 
Thirteen  Thousand  Prisoners  of  War. 

"How  sleep  the  brave,  who  sink  to  rest, 
By  all  their  country's  wishes  blest! 
By  fairy  hands  their  knell  is  rung, 
By  forms  unseen  their  dirge  is  sung, 
Their  honor  comes — a  pilgrim  gray — 
To  bless  the  turf  that  wraps  their  clay; 
And  freedom  shall  a  while  repair, 
To  dwell  a  weeping  hermit  there." 

T  UNGRY  and  disheartened,  we  were  marched  back  to  our 
•I*  *•  prison  pen.  We  were  marched  fifteen  miles  the  first 
night,  which  took  nearly  all  night.  We  were  furnished 
with  no  food  on  this  trip.  I  shall  not  try  to  describe  the 
sufferings  and  abuse  we  endured.  Upon  reaching  the  prison, 
we  were  immediately  taken  before  Captain  Wirze,  at  his  head- 
quarters. Directly  in  front  of  his  headquarters  he  had 
erected  a  scaffold,  upon  which  to  hang  some  recaptured 
prisoners.  As  we  marched  up  he  raised  his  head,  and  looking 
us  over,  inquired:  "Where  is  that  Will  Crandall?  I  gives 
five  hundred  tollars  for  that  Will  Crandall."  Crandall  was  a 
prisoner  who  escaped  the  evening  before  we  did;  he  was  sub- 
sequently caught.  We  told  him  we  knew  nothing  of  Cran- 
dall. Then  he  turned  his  vicious,  small  eyes  upon  us  and  be- 
gan to  curse  us,  and  said:  "I  makes  a  hell  for  you.  You 
shall  bury  all  the  prisoners  who  die,"  meaning  the  forty  of  us, 


A  VETEBAN'S  STOKY  OF  THE  WAR.  63 

and  we  were  to  work  on  half  rations,  and  he  said  that  he 
would  keep  us  in  the  stocks  at  night,  and  that  we  should  stay 
in  the  stocks  thirty  days  after  the  other  prisoners  had  gone 
home.  This  was  a  hard  sentence.  The  stocks  would  have 
caused  death  in  less  than  ten  days,  but  the  fear  of  death  had 
long  departed,  death  on  every  hand  had  become  so  familiar 
that  he  seemed  a  friend  to  the  poor,  wretched  shadows  that 
we  were.  We  did  not,  however,  have  to  endure  this  long.  I 
wish  to  state  what  was  meant  by  "stocks."  Two  planks 
made  to  fit  the  neck,  wrists  and  ankles,  which  were  keyed  up 
tight;  with  the  apparatus  adjusted,  a  man  could  not  sit  down 
nor  lie  down.  Another  mode  of  punishment  should  be  de- 
scribed here.  It  consisted  of  chaining  ten  or  fifteen  men  to- 
gether, with  a  twenty-four  pound  cast  ball  attached  to  each 
man,  in  the  center  was  a  cast  ball  of  one  hundred  and  sixty 
pounds,  to  which  each  man  was  chained.  '  This  also  soon 
caused  death. 

About  9  A.  M.  we  were  sent  to  dig  graves,  with  a  guard  of 
forty  men  placed  over  us.  We  dug  trenches  about  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  feet  long  and  three  feet  deep,  and  at  the  bot- 
tom of  this  we  dug  a  vault  of  one  foot  in  depth.  Jake  Hela- 
maker,  of  Ohio,  and  myself  split  slabs  and  placed  one  over 
each  of  our  dead.  We  also,  as  far  as  could  be  done,  placed  a 
board  with  regiment,  company  and  name.  The  reader  is  well 
aware  that  it  is  no  small  task  to  bury  one  hundred  and  twenty 
men  each  day;  that  was  about  the  number  carried  out  every 
morning.  So  badly  would  they  decompose  during  the  interval 
between  death  and  burial  that  often  we  found,  when  we  at- 
tempted to  lift  them,  that  the  skin  slipped  from  the  flesh,  and 
often  the  flesh  cleared  from  the  bone,  for  most  of  the  poor  fel- 
lows were  suffering  from  scurvy.  The  flesh  of  these  bodies 


64  A  VETERAN'S  STOBY  OF  THE  WAR. 

was  soft  and  very  black  by  the  time  it  reached  the  grave  diggers. 
Here  comes  a  government  wagon  piled  full  of  our  brave  boys; 
thrown  into  the  wagon  like  a  lot  of  dead  swine,  to  be  as  rudely 
thrown  out  again  on  their  arrival  at  the  burial  ground. 

We  were  so  starved  now  in  the  pen  that  we  were  glad  to 
catch  mice,  bugs,  grasshoppers,  crickets,  or  anything  that 
could  be  eaten,  and  woe  to  the  unfortunate  dog  or  cat  that 
ventured  within  our  reach;  nothing  is  too  bad  for  starving 
men  to  eat.  Murder  is  tame  when  compared  to  the  acts  of 
these  Southern  fiends.  I  wish  in  the  following  pages  to  give 
a  statement  as  evidence  in  support  of  what  I  have  said  regard- 
ing this  prison,  and  the  infamous  purpose  of  the  prison  gen- 
eral commanding,  General  F.  H.  Winder,  the  commanding 
officer  in  charge  of  the  post,  some  months  after  the  close  of 
war.  Captain  Henry  Wirze,  a  subordinate,  having  immedi- 
ate command  of  the  prison,  was  arraigned  before  a  military 
court  in  Washington  for  brutal  treatment  and  unnecessary 
cruelty  to  his  prisoners.  The  facts  we  have  here  stated  were 
corroborated  by  many  Union  soldiers,  summoned  as  witnesses, 
and  he  was  found  guilty  of  such  base  cruelty  that  he  was 
sentenced  and  hung.  C.  E.  Tibbies,  one  of  our  squad  who 
had  received  such  base  treatment  from  Wirze,  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  giving  his  testimony  against  him,  and  of  seeing  his 
execution.  But  more  valuable  testimony,  considering  the 
source  from  which  it  emanated,  was  given  by  Colonel  D.  T. 
Chandler,  formerly  inspector  general  in  the  rebel  service. 
The  following  is  an  extract  from  an  official  report  from  this 
officer,  addressed  to  Colonel  Chilton,  at  Richmond,  under  date 
of  August  5,  1864: 

"My  duty  requires  me  to  respectfully  recommend  a  change  in  the 
officer  in  command  of  the  post,  by  putting  in  a  substitute  in  Brigadier 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  65 

General  Winder's  place,  one  who  will  unite  both  energy  and  good 
judgment,  with  some  feeling  of  humanity  and  consideration  for  the 
welfare  and  comfort  (as  far  as  is  consistent  with  their  safe  keeping) 
of  the  vast  number  of  unfortunates  placed  under  his  control,  some  one 
who  will  not  advocate  deliberately,  and  in  cold  blood,  the  propriety  of 
leaving  them  in  their  present  condition,  until  their  number  has  been 
sufficiently  reduced  by  death  to  make  the  present  arrangement  suffice 
for  their  accommodation.  Who  will  not  consider  it  a  matter  of  self- 
laudation — boasting  that  he  has  never  been  inside  the  stockade — a 
place  the  horror  of  which  it  is  difficult  to  describe,  and  which  is  a  dis- 
grace to  civilization,  the  condition  of  which  he  might  (by  the  exercise 
of  a  little  energy  and  judgment)  even  with  the  limited  means  at  his 
command,  have  considerably  improved." 

Colonel  Chandler,  upon  being  called  to  the  stand,  verified 
the  foregoing  statement,  or  report,  adding  that  he  had 
nothing  to  retract,  and  further  stated  that  during  his  in- 
spection he  had  a  conversation  with  General  Winder,  who 
seemed  very  indifferent  to  the  wellfare  of  the  prisoners, 
and  was  .not  disposed  to  do  anything.  He  remonstrated 
with  Winder  as  best  he  could.  He  spoke  of  the  great 
mortality,  and  suggested  that  as  the  sickly  season  was  coming 
on,  the  swamp  should  be  drained,  and  better  food  furnished, 
and  other  sanitary  measures  adopted.  But  Winder  replied  to 
him  that  he  thought  it  would  be  better  to  let  one-half  die,  so 
they  could  take  care  of  the  remainder.  Chandler's  assistant, 
Major  Hall,  had  previously  reported  that  Winder  had  made  a 
simple  statement  to  him,  and  upon  Chandler's  remarking  that 
he  thought  this  incredible,  Major  Hall  said  Winder  had  re- 
peated that  expression  to  him  several  times. 

So  this  certainly  shows  that  the  rebel  government  in  Rich- 
mond was  made  officially  cognizant  of  the  barbarities  com- 
mitted at  Andersonville,  and  of  the  condition  of  the  prisoners 
5 


66 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 


at  Belle  Isle,  and  had  been  so  immediately  under  their  eyes 
that  ignorance  could  not  possibly  have  been  pleaded.  The 
conclusion  seemed  inevitable  that  they  deliberately  approved 
of  the  measures  adopted  by  the  commanding  officers  at  both 
places. 


A  "VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  67 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  Change  of  Prisons — Escape  at  Belle  Isle— Living  on  Green  Corn— The 
Swamps — Blood  Hounds — Despair  in  the  Swamps. 

Press  on !    If  once  and  twice  thy  feet 
Slip  back  and  stumble,  harder  try; 
From  him  who  never  dreads  to  meet 
Danger  and  death,  they're  sure  to  fly. 
To  coward  ranks  the  bullet  speeds, 
While  on  their  breast  who  never  quail, 
Gleams,  guardian  of  chivalric  deeds, 
Bright  courage,  like  a  coat  of  mail. 

'"PHE  reader,  no  doubt,  will  be  convinced  by  tbe  foregoing 
L      proof  of  the  complicity  of  Davis  and  his  cabinet  in  this 
wholesale  murder  department  of  the  Southern  Confed- 
eracy. 

We  must  now  give  our  attention  to  grave-yard  and  prison, 
where  we  were  last  seen  digging  graves  for  murdered  com- 
rades. We  were  not  working  here  many  days  until  we  could 
notice  a  degree  of  restlessness  among  the  guards.  We  soon 
learned  that  the  rebels  feared  a  raid  from  Sherman  on  Ander- 
sonville,  which  I  often  thought  could  have  been  accomplished. 
So  one  day  there  came  orders  to  send  a  part  of  the  prisoners 
to  Florence,  S.  C.  We  were  taken  with  others,  and  placed 
upon  the  cars.  We  were  informed  that  we  were  to  be 
exchanged,  which  was  merely  done  to  taunt  us.  Captain 

Wirze  came  to  us  and  said,  "  You ,  you  think  you 

are  going  to  get  off,  but  I  have  sent  orders  for  you  to  be  placed 
upon  the  same  rations  you  enjoyed  here.  I  will  learn  you 
how  to  run  away," 


68  A   VETERAN  S   STORY   OF    THE   WAR. 

Tibbies  and  myself  were  on  the  lookout  for  a  chance  to 
escape;  our  sentence  still  hung  over  us;  our  two  days1  rations 
were  exhausted;  nine  hundred  men  upon  the  train,  and  noth- 
ing to  eat.  Tibbies  and  myself  had  been  fortunate  enough  to 
obtain  some  rice  from  the  guards  at  Andersonville,  having 
traded  with  them  for  a  small  supply  before  starting.  This 
rice  was  all  we  had  for  two  days,  until  we  reached  Florence, 
on  the  16th  of  September,  1864.  Here  they  took  us  off  of  our 
train  and  guarded  us.  Tibbies  and  I  went  all  around  and 
through  the  crowd  of  prisoners  and  tried  to  get  them  to  make 
a  dash  upon  our  guards.  I  offered  to  take  the  gun  from 
either  of  the  guards,  but  the  prisoners  were  so  deeply  discour- 
aged that  they  would  only  laugh  at  us.  Many  of  our  boys 
thought  we  could  never  reach  the  Union  line  if  we  were 
turned  loose.  I,  in  common  with  others,  thought  it  was  life 
or  death  with  us,  and  I  determined  I  would  not  go  inside  the 
stockade  at  Florence. 

G.  N.  Tibbies  managed  to  slip  out  past  the  guards,  got  a 
woman  to  bake  him  a  corn  cake,  and  then  came  back  inside 
the  guard  line,  and  three  of  us  ate  half  of  it,  the  rest  was  put 
away  in  our  haversacks,  to  be  used  on  our  journey.  For  we 
determined  to  go  through  the  lines  and  escape,  or  leave  our 
dead  bodies  as  a  memento  of  our  last  attempt. 

We  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  map.  We  studied 
it,  and  decided  to  strike  for  Newbern,  N.  C.  We  thought 
from  looking  over  our  map  it  must  be  about  three  hundred 
miles  up  the  coast,  and  thought  we  could  find  enough  raw 
corn  in  the  fields  to  live  on,  and  determined  we  would  not  ask 
for  any  thing  to  eat  on  this  trip,  or  speak  to  any  one,  but 
pursue  a  northernly  course  and  travel  by  night.  But, 
great  heavens!  as  we  concluded  our  arrangements,  they  began 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  69 

to  move  us  to  the  stockade.  Something  must  be  done.  As 
we  turned  a  curve  in  the  road — the  guards  were  a  little  too 
far  apart— C.  E.  Tibbies,  G.  N.  Tibbies  and  myself  darted  into 
the  brush,  ran  a  few  yards  into  a'  strip  of  undergrowth,  when 
we  found  the  railroad  in  front  and  the  wagon  road  in  the 
rear.  Many  men  were  going  to  and  from  the  prison.  Here 
we  dropped  down  and  laid  as  flat  on  the  leaves  as  we  could. 
We  laid  here  until  near  sunset,  when  a  rebel  came  up  within 
twenty  feet  of  us,  and  looked  directly  at  us  a  short  time,  he 
then  turned  and  went  away.  So  soon  as  he  was  out  sight  we 
sprang  to  our  feet  and  ran  across  the  railroad.  By  this  time 
he  was  back  to  the  place  we  had  left  with  an  armed  guard  to 
take  us  back. 

We  ran  with  all  the  speed  we  could,  while  shouts  of  the 
soldiers  behind  us  to  halt,  the  ping  of  the  bullet  as  it  struck 
over  our  heads,  or  tore  through  the  thickets,  only  had  the 
effect  to  increase  our  speed.  On  and  on  we  ran,  out  into  the 
dismal  swamp.  Here  we  began  to. breath  easier,  and  about 
dark  we  fell  in  with  another  fugitive,  who  informed  us  that 
his  name  was  Charles  F.  Davis.  We  now  came  to  a  field  of 
corn,  where  we  ate  our  fill,  and  gathered  as  much  as  we  could, 
which  we  lived  on  almost  altogether  for  the  succeeding  three 
or  four  days*  We  had  a  portion  of  the  cake  which  the  woman 
had  baked  for  Tibbies,  this  delicacy  we  wished  to  save  for 
future  use,  for  "Coming  events  cast  their  shadows  before." 
But  we  did  eat  a  piece  of  cake  about  as  large  as  a  silver  dollar 
each  day. 

We  now  came  to  the  river  called  the  Big  Piney  on  the 
fourth  day;  this  river  we  must  cross;  we  feared  the  bridge, 
for  it  was  likely  to  be  guarded.  While  we  were  undecided 
what  to  do,  we  suddenly  discovered  a  negro  in  the  bush, 


70  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

within  a  few  feet  of  us.  The  negro  seeing  we  were  all  alarmed 
said,  uGo  on,  raassa;  go  on,  God  bless  you."  When  we  dis- 
covered that  he  was  friendly,  we  eagerly  inquired  of  him 
which  way  we  had  better  go,  and  whether  the  bridge  was 
guarded.  He  informed  us  that  there  was  a  guard  of  five  hun- 
dred at  the  bridge,  and  death  would  be  certain  if  we  attempted 
to  cross  there.  But  he  gave  us  directions  by  which  we  crossed 
the  river  in  safety.  Once  across  the  river  we  looked  for  and 
found,  our  old  friend,  the  u  North  Star,"  which  has  guided  so 
many  of  our  poor  boys  through  swamp  and  canebrake  to  God's 
country. 

Shortly  after  getting  our  bearing,  we  were  greeted  by  the 
baying  of  hounds.  Soon  a  whole  pack  of  them  came  bound- 
ing, wide-mouthed  upon  us.  We  fought  as  only  men  know 
how  to  fight  whose  lives  are  at  stake.  We  fought  the  dogs 
with  clubs,  and  it  was  with  great  difficulty  we  beat  them  off. 
We  would  strike  until  we  were  ready  to  fall  with  exhaustion.  A 
man  living  on  raw  corn  does  not  develop  very  great  strength, 
and  it  is  a  wonder  how  we  could  fight  off  these  hounds  in  our 
weakened  condition;  but  we  did  finally  beat  them  off,  and  got 
away  from  them.  We  dared  not  build  a  fire  for  fear  the 
smoke  would  attract  attention,  so  we  ate  our  corn  raw.  We 
determined  never  to  grace  another  rebel  prison.  We  were  now 
traveling  through  a  dense  thicket  or  swamp,  which  was  thickly 
grown  with  long  green  briars,  which  grew  across  the  paths 
and  open  spaces  through  which  we  made  our  way,  and  tore 
our  clothes,  and  lacerated  our  flesh  as  we  hurried  on  in  the 
darkness. 

Morning  came  at  last,  and  all  day  long  we  traveled  through 
swamp,  thicket  and  bog;  bog,  thicket  and  swamp.  Now  we 
could  not  see  the  stars,  so  thick  and  tall  was  the  undergrowth, 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  71 

except  we  look  directly  up  at  the  heavens  through  the  chinks 
of  the  over-hanging  growth  of  swamp  brush  and  briars,  so  we 
concluded  we  would  try  the  road.  We  decided  to  send  one  of 
our  number  on,  as  an  advance  guard,  twenty  steps  ahead  of 
the  rest,  and  if  our  advance  was  fired  upon  it  would  give  the 
rest  some  chance  to  escape  without  being  seen.  We  traveled 
in  this  fashion  for  sixteen  days  and  nights.  Sometimes  when 
it  was  too  light  to  travel  in  the  roads,  and  too  dark  to  travel  in 
the  swamp,  we  would  lie  down  and  take  a  little  sleep  until 
the  night  grew  darker,  when  we  would  return  to  the  road. 
We  only  slept  three  nights  out  of  the  sixteen.  The  first  two 
nights  we  did  not  lie  down  at  all.  One  of  these  nights  I  felt 
we  were  going  in  the  wrong  direction,  but  the  others  would 
not  listen  to  me;  but  when  we  saw  the  morning  star  we 
found  we  were  going  wrong,  and  then  we  changed  our  course 
northeast.  On  and  on,  there  seemed  no  end  to  the  swamps, 
and  our  sufferings;  starving,  weak  and  trembling,  our  courage 
and  the  hope  of  again  seeing  the  land  of  the  free  and  the 
home  of  the  brave  alone  supported  us  in  these,  our  last  trials. 

One  night  we  came  to  water,  it  was  a  very  dark  night,  and 
we  followed  along  the  shore  untilwe  came  to  what  seemed  to 
be  a  bridge;  leading  up  to  the  bridge  were  steps,  upon  which 
we  mounted  and  crossed  on  the  slab-covered  tressle,  which 
seemed  to  be  about  thirty  feet  above  the  water;  so  dark  was 
it  we  could  not  see  the  structure  on  which  we  walked — or 
rather  felt  our  way.  The  farther  end  of  this  bridge  seemed 
to  end  in  the  tree  tops.  We  finally  came  to  the  shore 
in  safety,  although  we  had  feared  guards  would  be  there  to 
intercept  us. 

We  were  now  about  thirty  miles  from  Wilmington,  N.  C.,  and 
the  intervening  country  was  very  low  and  nearly  all  swamp. 


72  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

These  swamps  are  very  desolate,  and  almost  devoid  of  sun- 
shine, the  trees  are  covered  with  the  clinging  vines  peculiar  to 
this  climate,  which  shut  out  the  light  of  day.  I  believe  there 
are  bears  and  other  wild  animals  capable  of  taking  the  life  of 
man  which  live  in  these  swamps.  We  where  chased  by  a  large 
grizzly  bear  one  day  for  quite  a  distance  but  by  careful  watch- 
ing we  evaded  him  and  escaped  this  dangerous  foe.  He  fol- 
lowed us  three  miles. 

We  could  not  tell  when  we  were  nearing  a  rebel  camp  until 
we  would  see  a  rebel  picket.  One  morning,  just  before  day- 
light, we  came  to  one  and  we  all  drew  our  clubs,  and  was  in 
the  act  of  killing  him,  when  he  spoke  to  us,  and  so  friendly, 
too,  that  we  passed  on.  He  thought  we  were  rebels,  of  course, 
going  into  camp,  as  what  clothes  we  had  on  were  of  rebel  uni- 
form. But  we  concluded  to  go  round  the  rebel  camp  this 
time.  One  evening  about  sunset  we  discovered  a  terrible 
storm  arising,  and  we  went  to  the  road  and  traveled  on,  and 
in  a  short  time  we  discovered  a  man  run  across  the  road  from 
a  barn,  and  in  a  moment  the  storm  was  dashing  and  raging 
furiously.  We  ran  for  the  barn,  and  by  this  time  the 
air  was  full  of  trash,  limbs,  lumber  and  streaks  of  light- 
ning. The  storm  very  nearly  demolished  the  barn,  but  we  re- 
mained unhurt.  As  soon  as  practicable  we  resumed  our  weary 
march  onward.  We  soon  approached  a  small  village,  it  being 
just  after  dark,  we  passed  on  along  through  the  streets.  We 
could  see  the  citizens  in  groups  looking  at  us,  and  soon  after 
we  passed  out  of  town,  we  perceived  they  had  gathered 
together  quite  a  company  of  men  and  were  pursuing  us;  but 
we  started  on  the  Indian  trot  and  were  soon  lost  to  their 
view  in  the  deep  forests  filled  with  greeiibriers,  vines  and 
brush,  until  it  really  looked  impossible  for  anything  to  pen- 


A  VETERAH'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  73 

etrate  the  swamp  but  wild  beasts.  So  they  soon  gave  up  the 
chase  not  wishing  to  be  torn  by  the  briers,  as  we  were  com- 
pelled to  be. 

We  traveled  on  and  the  next  day  as  we  had  traveled 
through  swamps,  and  had  had  no  chance  to  get  ourselves  any 
corn  to  eat,  we  were  getting  very  weak  and  faint;  along  in  the 
afternoon  we  crossed  a  deep  gulch  on  a  small  pole.  It  was 
with  difficulty  that  we  crossed  at  all,  and  as  soon  as  we 
crossed  we  came  out  at  a  cross  roads,  and  there  stood  a 
rebel  picket  guard.  We  turned  instantly  and  ran  across  the 
pole  without  the  least  difficulty,  we  ran  about  forty  rods  and 
then  crossed  again  and  ran  on  and  were  soon  away  into  a 
swampy  desert,  with  blood  hounds  and  rebels  pursuing  us. 
On  we  went  a  tearing  through  the  long  green  briers.  We 
could  distinctly  hear  the  blood  hounds  on  our  trail.  We  ran 
on  and  on  until  our  strength  was  all  exhausted,  and  our  feet 
and  legs  torn  and  bleeding.  Our.pants  were  nearly  all  torn 
off  of  us,  and  we  had  had  nothing  to  eat  since  the  day  before, 
and  had  traveled  all  night  and  ran  nearly  all  day  and  could 
not  get  even  raw  corn  to  eat,  nor  no  water.  0!  my  pen  re- 
fuses to  portray  our  sufferings,  bleeding  and  torn,  starving 
and  famishing.  All  hope  of  life  had  now  vanished  from  us. 
We  reeled  and  fainted  and  fell,  and  as  we  fell  it  was  near  a ' 
large  mossy  old  stump.  One  of  the  party  who  had  claimed  that 
he  did  not  believe  the  Bible  when  we  were  in  prison,  now 
whispered  and  said:  "let  us  all  pray  our  best.'1  Now  here  we 
lay  starving  and  dying  and  weeping  like  lost  children;  for  we 
had  suffered  and  toiled  so  much,  and  then  to  have  to  die  there 
away  in  the  swamps,  be  eaten  up  by  wild  beasts  and  our  friends 
neveii  know  what  had  become  of  us.  A  vision  of  mine  that 
God  had  revealed  to  me  before  the  war.  Things  had  come  to 


74  A  VETERAN  S    STORY   OP  THE  WAR. 

pass  just  as  it  was  pictured  out  to  me  then,  and  I  fully  be- 
lieved at  that  time  that  it  was  a  warning  from  God  to  me.  It 
deeply  impressed  my  mind  then  and  for  sometime  after,  for 
you  know  the  blessed  Bible  teaches  us  that  God  warns  his 
people  of  danger  and  delivers  those  that  put  their  trust  in 
him. 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  75 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Still  Fleeing  through  Swamps— No  Food  for  Thirty-eight  Hours— Still 
Pursued  by  Blood-hounds — A  Rain  brings  Relief  and  Destroys  their 
Trail. 

Ask  not  the  wanderers  after  our  fate, 

Our  being,  birth  or  name; 
Enough  that  all  have  shared  our  state, 
And  we  are  still  the  same. 

Green  briers  and  thorns  our  life  has  torn, 

Still  strives  our  souls  within, 
While  care,  pain,  and  sorrow  show, 

That  we  starved  and  perished  in  the  swamps. 

WHILE  lying  there  in  that  swamp,  I  offered  the  prayer  to 
God  that  Peter  offered  when  he  was  sinking  in  the 
water,  "Lord  save  or  we  perish."     But  I  continued  on 
thusly,  u  but  not  my  will,  but  thine  be  done.1'     My  faith  in 
God  to  save  me  was  unwavering,  though  all  other  hopes  had 
failed.     While  we  were  yet  lying  there  weeping  and  praying 
in  our  hearts,  for  we  never  spoke  a  loud  word  for  fifteen 
days  in  all  our  conversation,  we  just  whispered,  our  suffering 
was  intense.     C.  E.  Tibbies  remarked  that  u  we  had  just  as 
well  die  here."     But  I  replied,  that  "  we  had  just  as  well  die 
walking  along  as  lying  here."     But  hark!  Listen!    we  again 
hear  the  bloodthirsty  troop  in  pursuit  of  us.     In  an  instant 
we  are  on  our  feet,  and  each   man  took  his   own  course 
through  the  swamps  like  so  many  wild  beasts  fleeing  from 
the  hunter.     I  never  expected  to  see  my  comrades  again  in 


76  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

this  life.  On  and  on  \\e  fled  through  the  dense  forest  of 
green  hriers  and  swamp  brush,  when  all  at  once  we  found 
ourselves  come  together  in  one  squad  again.  In  a  short 
time  a  cloud  passed  over,  and  it  rained  quite  a  shower.  It 
was  now  about  5  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  we  licked  the 
leaves  for  the  water  on  them  and  hunted  little  cups,  and  got 
a  little  water  out  of  them,  and  this  was  the  first  water  we  had 
had  for  twenty-four  hours.  That  little  shower  gave  us  water 
and  washed  our  tracks  until  the  hounds  could  not  track  us, 
consequently  they  were  compelled  to  give  us  up.  We  traveled 
on  until  dark  with  our  legs  bleeding  and  naked,  they  were  so 
torn  by  the  briers.  It  was  now  dark  and  we  were  all  wet, 
running  through  the  wet  brush,  and  seemingly  we  were  about 
the  center  of  the  swamp,  and  it  was  very  wet  and  muddy,  and 
we  stuck  sticks  in  the  ground  and  sucked  up  some  water.  It 
was  now  so  dark,  and  the  briers,  brush  and  vines  were  so  thick 
we  could  not  see  to  get  through;  as  we  could  not  see  the 
north  star,  we  could  not  tell  the  direction  so  we  all  lay 
down  there  in  the  wet  arid  mud  with  our  limbs  on  the  wet 
ground.  Here  we  lie  shivering,  starving  skeletons;  we  had 
had  no  food  for  thirty-eight  hours.  I  felt  that  no  power 
could  save  us  but  the  power  of  God. 

And  I  felt  that  I  did  not  care  much  only  to  live  to  tell  my 
friends  where  I  had  been,  and  try  to  serve  God.  Now  while 
we  lay  there  piled  up  in  that  muddy  swamp  our  sufferings 
were  so  great  that  I  have  no  idea  that  we  will  ever  suffer  more 
or  half  so  much  the  day  of  our  death  as  we  suffered  that  day 
and  night.  My  mind  was  in  heaven  with  my  dear  angel 
mother,  that  went  up  there  when  I  was  a  small  boy  and  then 
with  my  old  father  in  Iowa.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  could 
feel  a  stream  of  love  flitting  from  heaven  to  me  and  from  me 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  77 

to  my  father  in  Iowa.  My  father  afterwards  told  me,  when 
I  got  home,  that  that  night  he  could  not  sleep,  that  it  was 
impressed  on  his  mind  that  I  was  about  to  perish  and  he  got 
up  out  of  bed  and  asked  God  to  save  me.  Every  time  he 
would  lie  down  in  bed  that  night  the  same  whispering  would 
come  to  him,  until  he  got  up  and  prayed  three  times.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  I  could  feel  the  flitting  of  angel's  wings 
hovering  over  me.  1  thought  perhaps  that  angels  had  come 
to  conduct  my  spirit  home,  but  they  had  only  come  to  encour- 
age me  in  my  perilous  position.  We  lay  there  in  the  wet  and 
shivered  all  night  and  it  looks  unreasonable  to  say,  when  it 
was  daylight  that  we  could  stand  on  our  feet.  Tremblingly  I 
could  say,  "  Oh  Lord,  thou  hast  brought  up  my  soul  from  the 
grave.  Thou  hast  kept  me  alive,  that  I  should  not  go  down 
into  the  pit."  Psalms  xxx,  3rd  verse.  As  soon  as  it  was  light 
we  started  again  on  our  march,  though  we  were  faint,  weak 
and  sore.  We  soon  heard  a  negro  calling  hogs.  We  pressed 
our  weary  steps  toward  him  as  rapidly  as  possible,  but  lo,  we 
soon  saw  when  we  went  near,  that  we  could  get  no  corn  there 
without  being  seen.  Therefore  we  were  compelled  to  travel 
on  about  four  miles,  around  a  large  farm  and  across  another 
dense  swamp  and  crossing  it  we  immediately  came  to  a  corn 
field  and  negro  peas.  We  grabed  peas  and  filled  our  mouths 
until  we  got  some  corn  husked,  and  then  sat  down  and  ate 
three  ears  apiece  in  less  than  twenty  minutes.  This  was 
about  the  first  time  we  had  sat  down  to  eat.  While  here  we 
soon  heard  the  hounds  coming  up  the  swamp.  We  resolved 
if  they  pursued  us  we  would  slay  them  with  clubs. 

When  we  found  that  they  had  passed  our  tracks,  we  felt  as 
though  we  were  safe,  at  least,  for  a  while,  we  supposed  they 
were  after  a  fox;  we  soon  resumed  our  march.  The  corn  we 


78  A  VETERAN  S    STORY    OF   THE    WAR. 

had  been  eating  was  dry  and  hard;  we  traveled  on  around  the 
plantation  and  presently  came  to  a  house,  the  yard  was  full  of 
little  rebs  playing,  and  between  the  fence  and  the  house  there 
was  a  late  roasting-ear  patch;  the  corn  was  in  good  roasting- 
ear,  C.  E.  Tibbies  and  I  said  we  would  have  some  of  that  soft 
corn,  and  over  the  fence  we  went,  our  haversacks  were  soon 
filled,  which  was  indeed  a  treat  to  us — we  passed  on  and  soon 
were  in  a  dense  forest  and  wilderness  of  brush  and  green 
briers,  a  feasting  on  our  raw  corn.  It  was  a  feast  indeed. 
No  picnic  dinner  ever  tasted  so  good  to  me.  God  blessed  it  and 
kept  us  by  his  power. 

One  evening  about  dusk  we  felt  as  though  we  were  in  a 
critical  place,  we  soon  found-  a  negro  that  informed  us  that 
rebs  were  thick  going  through  the  country  and  we  concluded 
to  seek  a  place  to  hide  until  a  late  hour,  so  we  slipped  up  to 
an  old  fodder-house  and  went  in.  It  was  about  one  hundred 
yards  from  the  house;  and  in  a  short  time  a  great  racket  com- 
menced at  the  house  and  we  could  discover  men  maneuvering 
around  the  house;  we  did  not  shut  our  eyes,  for  we  were 
taught  to  watch  as  well  as  pray.  We  supposed  they  were 
having  a  rebel  hoedown,  but  we  had  no  idea  of  taking  part 
with  them.  However  we  discovered  a  squad  approaching  us, 
we  supposed  they  intended  to  press  us  into  the  service;  but 
as  they  neared  the  fodder-house  door  we  leaped  out  of  the 
window,  which  was  in  the  back  part  of  the  fodder-house. 
We  were  soon  out  in  the  swamps.  It  was  Egyptian  darkness. 
]n  a  short  time  after  we  struck  the  road  and  was  going  along 
we  heard  the  clatter  of  sabres  and  horses  feet.  It  was  the 
rebel  cavalry;  they  came  in  hearing  so  suddenly  that  we 
leaped  about  fifteen  feet  and  lay  down  in  the  brush  until  they 
passed  and  got  up  and  again  resumed  our  journey. 


A  VETERAN'S  STOKY  OF  THE  WAR.  79 

It  soon  began  to  rain  and  continued  on  until  the  next 
evening,  and  as  it  was  still  raining,  we  had  had  no  chance 
to  get  any  corn  to  eat.  We  were  drenched  with  the  rain,  and 
were  starving  and  dying  by  inches.  We  now  happened  to-hear 
a  negro  coming  through  the  woods  singing.  George  Tibbies 
said  if  we  would  stop  and  remain  where  we  were,  he  would  go 
and  see  if  that  negro  could  give  us  aid,  by  helping  or  giving 
us  something  to  eat,  and  by  telling  us  how  to  cross  the  large 
river  that  we  were  now  approaching.  But  the  negro  told  him 
that  they  could  not  get  enough  to  eat  themselves;  and  he 
would  be  glad  to  help  us  if  he  could.  But  he  informed  us 
how  to  cross  the  river;  so  we  went  down  an  old  by-road,  the 
rain  falling  in  torrents,  and  we  were  staggering  with  weak- 
ness and  were  nearly  exhausted,  and  would  have  given  up 
and  died,  but  life  seemed  dear  to  us  for  we  wanted  to  see  our 
friends,  and  be  buried  with  God's  people.  The  sufferings  of 
this  night  will  never  be  erased  from  my  memory.  We 
toiled  on  through  the  Egyptian  darkness,  water,  mud  and 
rain,  until  we  came  to  the  river,  and  was  there  piloted  across 
by  a  negro;  as  soon  as  we  were  on  the  other  side  we  found 
a  patch  of  corn,  and  were  soon  feasting  upon  it.  Shortly  after- 
ward we  found  another  negro,  and  he  said  they  had  killed 
a  hog  a  few  days  ago  and  had  not  eaten  it  because  it  was  some- 
what spoiled,  and  he  would  sell  us  a  piece.  So  we  bought 
about  one  pound  and  it  was  green  and  slick.  But  we  gave 
him  a  five  dollar  bill  for  it,  and  ate  it  with  our  corn. 

One  day  we  were  traveling  through  the  swamps,  and  we 
saw  two  other  men  that  had  made  their  escape  from  prison, 
and  as  we  approached  another  river,  these  two  men  said  they 
intended  to  go  to  the  bridge  to  cross.  We  crossed  the  rivers 
generally  wherever  we  came  to  them,  for  we  shunned  the 


80 


A  VETERANS    STOEY    OF  THE   WAR. 


bridges  for  fear  of  the  rebels.  We  told  them  we  wouldn't 
go,  but  they  went,  and  in  a  few  minutes  after  they  left  us 
we  heard  a  volley  of  musketry  in  the  direction  of  the  bridge, 
and  as  we  never  saw  or  heard  of  them  again,  we  supposed  they 
were  shot  by  rebel  guards. 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  81 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

G.  N.  Tibbies  Finds  One  Large  Sweet  Potato — Still  on  the  Tramp  and 
Meet  a  Rebel  Negro — Home  at  Last — The  Prisoner's  Lwnent. 

WE  came  to  a  river  one  day  that  we  were  afraid  to  cross. 
We  wandered  along  the  bank  dreading  it,  for  we  were  so 
weak,  and  the  river  so  wide  and  swift,  and  seemed  to  be  full 
of  whirlpools  that  would  take  a  man  under.     Finally  we  con- 
cluded that  we  must  cross,  so  we  stripped  off  all  our  clothes, 
and  done  them  up  in  as  small  a  bundle  as  we  could,  then  C. 
E.  Tibbies,  being  an  expert  swimmer,  leaped  into  the  foaming 
waters,  swam  to  the  middle  of  the  river  and  dropped  down, 
but  could  not  touch  bottom  there,  but  hunted  around  and 
finally  found  a  place  where  the  two  of  us  that  could  not  swim 
could  cross  by  leaping  up  and  jumping  and  so  we  crossed  with 
great  difficulty.     When  Davis,  from  New  York  was  nearly 
across  he  began  to  sink,  but  George  Tibbies  caught  him  and 
helped  him  out  and  thereby  saved  his  life. 
-    We  toiled  on  through  the  swamps  until  we  were  exhausted, 
weary  and  nearly  fainting,  fell   in   despair.     It  seemed   as 
though  we  could  find  no  cornfield,  and  Gr.  N.  Tibbies  said  in 
a  whisper  to  us  to  stay  there,  and  he  would  go  and  see  if  he 
could  not  find  something  for  us  to  eat,  and  he  went  and 
returned  with  one  large  sweet  potato.     We  ate  part  of  it,  and 
saved  the  rest  to  eat  with  raw  corn.     We  ran  across  a  negro 
that  day  and  asked  him  for  information,  and  he  said  he  was  a 
rebel.     We  urged  him  not  to  say  anything  about  seeing  us, 
he  said  he  would  not  if  we  didn't  want  him  to;  we  assured 
6 


82  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

him  we  were  his  friends.  As  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight  we 
raised  the  double-quick,  and  went  for  miles  injo  the  dismal 
swamps,  for  we  felt  more  safe  when  we  were  away  down  in 
the  dense  wilderness  of  swamp  brush  and  greenbriers,  for  we 
had  hid  in  them  so  long.  Every  fright  we  would  get,  we 
would  run  for  miles  so  we  could  get  into  these  low  down 
swamps,  though  when  there  we  would  famish  and  faint  for 
food  and  water  before  we  could  get  out.  However,  we  aimed 
to  travel  in  the  swamps  altogether  in  the  day  time,  but  some- 
times we  would  pass  over  some  dry  land.  We  got  one  mess 
of  little  hard  apples  on  the  entire  trip,  and  I  often  wondered 
that  they  did  not  kill  us,  for  they  were  so  poor  and  hard  and 
we  ate  so  greedily  of  them;  and  we  had  one  mess  of  water- 
melons, and  one  mess  of  tame  grapes,  which  we  picked  off  a 
man's  porch.  We  were  so  near  starved  to  death  we  ran 
right  through  the  yard  and  soon  filled  ourselves  with  the 
grapes.  0,  how  delicious  they  were,  and  how  we  feasted  upon 
them,  and  then  filled  our  haversacks  with  the  grapes,  and 
feeling  refreshed  we  again  resumed  our  weary  march  onward. 
Now  in  the  lone  swamps  there  were  no  wild  grapes,  and  when 
on  the  dry  land,  we  could  get  corn  and  would  not  take  the 
time  to  bother  with  them. 

The  rebels  did  not  have  any  pickets  on  the  south  side  of 
their  camps,  they  just  had  scouts.  One  night  we  were  travel- 
ing with  all  the  speed  that  we  possibly  could  and  about  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning  we  found  ourselves  in  the  rebel  camp; 
we  went  up  to  their  artillery  and  then  turned  and  intended  to 
go  around  the  infantry,  when  lo,  we  found  ourselves  in  the 
midst  of  the  rebel  infantry  camp.  Now  we  were  somewhat 
confused,  but  we  hurried  right  on  through  their  camp,  and  if 
they  saw  us  they  took  us  for  their  own  men,  (but  they  were 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  £3 

greatly  fooled  if  they  did.)  We  went  on  safe  through  and 
coming  out  in  the  main  road  a  ways,  we  soon  discovered  a 
picket  fire  and  slipped  up  until  we  were  within  ten  steps  of 
the  picket;  we  could  see  every  man,  just  how  they  were  situ- 
ated; we  soon  fell  back  a  proper  distance,  and  concluded  if 
they  would  let  us  alone  that  we  would  serve  them  the  same 
way,  and  so  started  double-quick  through  the  brush,  and 
we  traveled  for  about  four  miles  down  the  Flint  river  bottom. 
What  a  terrible  dangerous  place  this  river  was,  but  we  did  not 
hesitate  long,  but  went  in  and  soon  crossed  over  the  waving, 
dangerous  water.  It  was  now  about  sun-rise  and  when 
we  landed  our  hearts  sank  within  us  at  the  terrible  swamp 
that  lay  before  as;  despair,  starvation  and  death  was  pictured 
in  every  countenance,  but  we,  weak  and  trembling,  entered 
the  swamp.  It  was  rather  dry  at  this  time,  there  were  tall 
green  briers  with  both  ends  in  the  ground,  swamp  brash,  and 
the  vines  were  so  dense  that  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  pen- 
etrate it.  Our  limbs  were  all  cut,  and  bleeding,  and  swollen; 
and  our  clothing  was  torn  to  ribbons  and  strings.  As  sore 
as  we  were,  we  were  compelled  to  get  down  on  all  fours  and 
crawl  for  almost  half  a  day,  and  then  we  could  see  no  light; 
we  finally  came  to  a  bush  about  forty  feet  in  height  and  I 
climbed  up  it  to  see  if  I  could  see  any  light  or  open  space  in 
the  swamp. 

But  I  could  not  discover  any.  There  seemed  to  be  paths 
all  through  this  swamp  made  by  wild  vermin  and  beasts. 
Though  it  seemed  impossible  for  a  very  large  beast  to  get 
through  without  getting  their  nose  right  on  the  ground  and 
creeping  along  the  same  as  we  did.  Our  knees  and  hands 
were  all  cut  and  bleeding^  with  briers  and  thorns  until  it  was 
next  to  impossible  for  us  to  walk  at  all,  in  fact  it  was  suffer- 


84-  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

ing  beyond  reason  for  us.     But  it  was  life  or  death  with  us. 
To  stop  was  death,  to  be  recaptured  was  death,  and  to  be  dis- 
covered by  a  citizen  was  the  same,  while  perseverance  was  life. 
After  I  came  down  from  the  tree  we  again  resumed  our  march 
on  all  fours,  but  were  surprised  when  we  soon  came  to  a  steep 
bluff.     Now  I  will  describe  those  green  briers  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  for  we  had  to  travel  through  them  so  much.      Well 
they  were  about  the  size  of  a  man's  finger.     They  grow  in 
low  swampy  ground  and  are  always  green;  they  grow  from 
ten  to  thirty  feet  long,  and  run  like  vines  over  the  swamp 
bushes  and  frequently  both  ends  fasten  in  the  ground.      It 
was  they  that  tore  our  cloths  and  flesh  so  while  running 
from  the  hounds.     We  now  ascended   the  hill   weary  and 
faint  for  we  had  been   in    this    dry   hot    swamp    so    long 
without   water  or  food.      We    now  started  out  on   a  trot 
through  a  dense  forest,  like  wild  beasts  and  traveled  nearly  all 
day  before  coming  to  any  corn  field,  where  we  could  get  some 
to  eat.      The  country  now   became  more  rough  and  hilly, 
sometimes  a  dense  swamp  and  sometimes  hills.    About  dusk 
one  evening  we  were  in  a  perfect  wilderness,  we  ran  under  a 
dense  cluster  of  vines  that  hung  about  four  feet  above  the 
ground  and  formed  a  good  house  under  there,  so  thick  when 
once  in  we  could   not   see   out.     We   darted    under    there, 
when  lo,  there  was  a  prisoner  who  had  come  from  Florence 
prison  all  alone.     He  soon  left  us  and  the  next  morning  we 
heard  a  volley  of  musketry.     We  thought  he  had  ran  into  a 
rebel  picket  and  was  shot  for  we  never  heard  of  him  getting 
through  and  he  was  aiming  for  the  same  point  that  we  were. 
The  poor  fellow  struggled,  toiled  and  suffered  to  save  his 
life,  then  was  compelled  to  lose  it  without  seeing  his  friends. 
We  now  discovered  a  negro,  and  being  desirous  of  learning 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  85 

the  distance  to  the  Neuse  river,  sought  an  opportunity  to  talk 
with  him  which  we  did,  and  he  informed  us  that  as  soon  as 
we  got  to  the  Stone  river  we  would  be  safe,  for  he  said  the 
Yanks  were  guarding  the  bridge.  We  now  felt  somewhat 
encouraged,  as  the  river  was  only  some  thirty  miles  distant. 
We  were  soon  there,  but  would  not  venture  to  go  on  the 
bridge,  and  aimed  some  three  miles  below  it,  for  we  were 
afraid  to  trust  the  darkey  too  far;  I  don't  think  he  meant 
to  mislead  us,  but  when  we  got  to  the  river,  we  could  look  up 
it  and  see  the  rebs  walking  on  the  bridge.  We  were  now 
so  near  the  Union  lines,  that  without  a  doubt  had  we  gone 
there  we  would  have  been  shot;  and  the  country  was  full  of 
bushwhackers.  When  we  started  across  the  river  we  got 
nearly  across  when  we  sunk  in  the  quick  sand  and  nearly 
perished,  but  finally  worked  our  way  out.  We  found  that 
our  troops  had  fallen  back  across  the  Neuse  river,  which  left  us 
in  the  midst  of  the  bushwhackers.  We  finally  decided  to  go 
to  the  road,  thinking  we  might  come  to  the  Union  pickets. 
Once  into  the  road  we  could  see  northern  papers,  oyster  and 
sardine  cans  that  had  come  from  the  north.  0,  what  joy 
even  those  emblems  gave  us.  Hope  now  sprang  up  within  us 
and  we  exclaimed  within  our  hearts :  "  Why  art  thou  cast 
down,  0,  my  soul,  and  why  art  thou  disquieted  within  me? 
Hope  in  God;  for  I  shall  yet  praise  Him  who  is  the  health  of 
my  countenance,  and  my  God." 

With  light  hearts  we  now  traveled  on  with  all  the  speed 
we  possibly  could  the  remainder  of  that  day,  the  night  follow- 
ing and  also  the  next  day  mitil  about  noon.  We  were  ex- 
pecting to  come  to  our  picket  guards  every  minute;  and  were 
now  so  excited  with  the  hope  of  seeing  our  pickets,  that  we 
did  not  take  time  to  hunt  any  corn  to  eat,  so  we  traveled 


86  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  \VAR. 

twenty-four  hours  without  anything  to  eat.  It  seemed  like 
we  were  so  close  to  the  Union  lines  and  to  liberty,  that  the 
very  air  seemed  changed,  but  it  was  a  perilous  place  for  us  in 
the  midst  of  rebel  scouts  and  bushwhackers,  but  we  felt 
that  we  were  under  God's  protecting  care.  Not  even  a  bird 
could  flit  by  unnoticed  by  us,  or  a  man  come  near  without 
our  notice  in  sufficient  time  to  escape  from  danger  or  death. 
I  now  ventured  up  to  the  gate  of  a  large  farm  house  where  I 
saw  an  aged  couple  sitting  on  a  porch,  and  I  asked  the  old 
gentleman  how  far  it  was  to  the  Neuse  river.  He  replied  it 
was  about  two  miles;  but  he  took  us  for  rebs,  and  said:  Don't 
go  there,  for  the  Yankees  are  thick  along  the  river."  I  then 
asked  if  that  was  the  nearest  point  to  the  river,  and  he  replied, 
"  No;  it  was  only  about  one  mile  across  the  fields,  but  we  had 
better  keep  away  from  the  river,  for  the  Yanks  were  so  thick 
scouting  up  and  down  the  river  on  the  other  side,  that  it  was 
very  dangerous  to  go  near  the  river.  Dear  reader,  you  can- 
not imagine  how  our  poor  hearts  were  delighted  to  think  we 
were  so  close  to  friends  and  food. 

We  took  across  the  plantation  with  all  the  energy  we 
could  command  until  we  came  to  the  long  looked  for  river,  with 
eager  eyes  we  penetrated  the  forest  on  the  other  side,  but 
could  see  no  blue  coats  or  Union  men;  but  there  lies  before 
us  a  great  deep  river,  a  mile  wide.  We  wandered  up  and 
down  looking  in  vain,  with  eager  eyes,  trying  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  a  blue  coat  on  the  other  shore;  we  were  so  anxious 
to  get  transport  over  the  river.  The  evening's  shade  was  now 
drawing  its  curtains  around  us,  .and  we  feared  every  moment 
that  we  would  be  shot  by  bushwackers.  C.  E.  Tibbies  and 
G.  N.  Tibbies,  being  expert  swimmers,  got  a  flat  rail 
and  got  on  it  and  launched  out  in  the  deep  and  landed  safe  on 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  87 

the  other  shore  where  friends  and  kindred  dwell,  where  the 
land  flows  with  good  provisions.  Davis  now  thought  he 
would  cross  on  a  rail,  but  just  as  he  started  out  the  rail 
turned  and  he  would  have  perished  in  the  deep  water  had  I 
not  assisted  him  in  getting  back  to  the  shore.  We  were  now 
hungry,  weak  and  faint  and  almost  ready  to  despair.  Just  at 
dusk  we  saw  a  darky  and  he  told  us  to  go  four  miles  down 
the  river  to  a  mill,  and  we  would  find  a  Union  man,  but  he 
said  in  all  probability  we  would  get  shot  before  we  got  there, 
however  he  gave  us  as  safe  a  route  to  go  as  he  could.  So 
weary  and  faint  and  weak  as  we  were  we  toiled  on  until  nine 
o'clock  when  we  reached  a  large  mill,  but  no  dwelling  house 
and  no  light  was  visible,  but  we  rapped  on  the  mill  door;  no 
sound  was  heard  within,  we  listened  in  vain  for  a  footfall  un- 
til our  hearts  almost  ceased  to  beat;  we  arose  and  attempted 
to  go  a  little  further  although  it  was  in  a  staggering  manner 
with  starvation  and  weakness;  when  we  went  a  little  distance 
we  looked  across  the  river,  when  lo !  we  discovered  a  bright 
picket  fire,  with  blue  coats  standing  around  it.  That  sight 
was  like  the  morning  star  of  hope  to  us.  So  we  again  made 
way  to  the  mill  door  and  pounded  upon  it  with  all  the  power 
we  had;  shortly  a  foot  step  was  heard  within  and  a  voice  said 
"Who  is  there?"  I  replied  "a  friend  I  guess."  So  in  a  short 
time  the  door  was  opened  by  a  large  old  negro.  We  soon 
told  him  a  brief  history  of  ourselves  and  the  old  darkey 
shouted  and  praised  God  for  our  deliverance.  We  were  soon 
taken  through  the  mill  back  into  a  little  old  hut  and  was 
given  coffee,  cold  potatoes  and  meat  to  eat — but  very  little 
done  us.  He  spread  down  some  quilts  in  the  mill  for  us  to 
lie  down  upon — how  thankful  we  felt  for  even  these.  As 
soon  as  the  break  of  day  the  old  darkey  came  to  us. 


88  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

Although  I  had  not  slept  any  during  the  night,  for  that 
Union  picket  fire  and  the  blue  coats  was  before  my  eyes  all 
night  long;  for  that  fire  was  the  Star  of  Hope,  life  and 
liberty  to  me.  The  old  darkey  told  us  to  come  now  before  it 
was  clear  light,  for  if  the  rebs  should  see  us  there  it  would  be 
death  to  us  and  himself  also;  so  we  were  soon  rowed  across 
the  river  by  a  stout  young  negro — and  as  soon  as  we  could 
we  made  our  way  to  Uncle  Sam's  boys'  camp.  There  was  a 
New  York  regiment  on  the  outer  guard,  and  as  we  went  into 
camp  they  fell  into  line  and  gave  three  cheers  for  the  Fourth 
Iowa. 

There  is  no  pen  nor  even  tongue  that  could  describe  my 
feelings,  to  realize  that  I  was  free  and  among  friends.  The 
colonel  gave  us  a  glass  of  brandy;  the  chaplain  pinned  our 
rags  up  as  best  he  could  to  hide  our  nakedness  until  we  could 
get  some  clothing.  Breakfast  was  soon  prepared  for  us  but 
we  could  eat  but  a  few  bits,  we  were  so  near  starved  to 
death,  that  it  seemed  we  could  not  eat.  Now  this  was  all 
done  for  us  by  a  New  York  regiment,  whom  we  never  had 
seen  before.  But  they  felt  as  near  and  dear  to  us  as  any 
brother  could  feel  toward  another.  It  was  now  the  first  day 
of  October,  1864,  and  we  were  six  miles  from  Newbern,  N. 
C.  The  Colonel  soon  ordered  a  team  to  take  us  to  Newbern 
and  as  we  four  prisoners  rode  along  my  heart  was  filled  with 
praise  to  God  who  had  so  miraculously  delivered  us  from  death 
by  the  hand  of  our  enemies.  Surely  I  could  say  in  the  language 
of  the  Psalmist,  20th  chapter,  6th  verse,  "  Now  know  I  that 
the  Lord  saveth  his  annointed;  He  will  hear  from  his  holy 
heaven,  with  the  saving  strength  of  his  right  hand.  I  will 
bless  the  Lord  who  has  given  me  council.  Psalm  16  chap., 
10th  verse.  We  were  soon  in  Newbern,  furnished  with  good 


A  VETEEAN'S  STOET  OF  THE  WAS.  89 

quarters,  clothing  and  good  food.  But  as  soon  as  we  were  quiet 
and  our  excitement  over  we  were  helpless.  Our  feet  and  legs 
swollen  and  we  were  weak  we  could  scarcely  walk  across  the 
room.  The  yellow  fever  was  now  raging  in  Newbern;  the 
people  were  dying  at  the  rate  of  sixty  per  day.  We  remained 
four  days  until  we  were  able  to  walk  around  some  and  then 
were  sent  by  rail  to  Morehead  City,  N.  C.,  on  coast.  Here  we 
stayed  one  day  and  gathered  oysters  in  the  shell  on  the  coast. 
We  then  got  aboard  of  a  ship  and  sailed  for  Fortress  Monroe, 
Va.,  and  when  within  five  miles  of  that  city,  a  tug  boat  met  us 
with  a  physician  on  board;  they  would  not  let  us  land  for 
sixteen  days  on  account  of  yellow  fever  being  on  the  ship. 
The  doctor  brought  us  five  days'  rations  and  another  suit  of 
clothing  and  the  ship  sailed  on  for  New  York  City  were  we 
met  the  same  resistance  as  before.  During  our  voyage  there 
we  were  in  great  peril  by  a  heavy  storm  and  thought  we 
would  all  be  drowned.  Oh,  the  raging  fury;  how  it  tossed 
our  ship  around  and  how  sickening  the  thought,  that  after 
having  undergone  so  much  suffering,  privations,  and  to  be 
spared  to  get  so  near  home  and  yet  never  reach  there,  but  the 
same  hand  that  had  preserved  us  in  the  past  troubles,  calmed 
the  roaring  sea  and  we  were  enabled  to  stem  the  storm  and 
again  cast  anchor  at  New  York  City,  and  by  a  little  intrigue, 
we  prisoners  got  on  board  of  a  tug  boat  and  sailed  to  shore. 
We  had  now  been  sailing  six  days  and  nights  without  seeing 
land.  I  got  very  sick  at  first  but  finally  got  better.  We 
landed  in  New  York  City,  October  12, 1864.  We  were  directed 
to  a  soldiers'  home,  the  first  I  had  ever  seen  and  I  had  soldiered 
three  years.  The  home  was  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
boat  landing,  but  we  were  so  weak  and  trembling  that  it  was 
with  great  difficulty  that  we  reached  there.  But  here  we 


90  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

received  good  attention  and  care  for  two  days  and  then  took 
rail  for  Buffalo,  New  York. 

Here  we  were  nursed  with  great  care  for  two  days,  and 
thence  we  were  sent  to  Cincinnati,  Ohio;  here  we  were 
stopped  for  two  days  more,  and  then  sent  on  to  Cleveland, 
Ohio,  and  remained  a  few  days.  We  now  began  to  realize 
that  we  were  gaining  some  strength.  We  were  shown  the 
greatest  kindness,  and  everything  was  furnished  us  that  was 
calculated  to  give  us  strength  and  build  us  up,  wherever  we 
were  sent.  We  stopped  at  all  the  main  cities  along  the  road 
home,  and  recruited  our  health  and  strength.  We  boys  then 
separated,  each  to  return  to  his  respective  home.  The  Tib- 
bies boys  and  I  had  been  together  so  long  that  it  was  with 
feelings  of  sadness  that  we  separated.  I  then  went  to  Keo- 
kuk,  Iowa,  and  stopped  ;  the  people  gathered  around  me  as 
they  would  around  Gen.  Grant,  and  gave  me  good  and  kind 
attention,  and  even  money  was  presented  me.  I  then  left  for 
Winterset,  Iowa,  arriving  there,  at  "  my  old  home,"  Novem- 
ber 1,  1864.  My  friends  had  all  given  me  up  for  dead.  The 
Tibbies  boys'  widowed  mother  had  even  had  their  funerals 
preached,  and  some  of  my  friends  were  contemplating  the 
same  ;  and  0!  the  joy  and  sweet  pleasure  in  our  again  being 
permitted  to  meet  in  this  world  was  better  felt  than  described. 
I  now  reported  myself  to  Des  Moines,  and  the  Provost  Mar- 
shal ordered  me  to  return  home  until  my  health  got  better, 
and  when  I  got  able  to  travel,  to  report  to  Davenport,  Iowa, 
and.get  my  discharge.  I  was  now  able  to  go  to  church,  and 
enjoy  the  society  of  young  folks;  and,  on  the  25th  day  of 
December,  1864,  I  was  united  in  marriage  to  Miss  E.  J. 
Bowlsby,  of  Winterset,  Madison  County,  Iowa,  in  Osceola, 
Iowa,  by  Rev.  A.  S.  Elliott;  and  on  January  3,  1865,  J  was 


A  VETERAN'S  STOEY  OF  THE  WAR.  91 

honorably  discharged  from  the  United  States  service  at  Dav- 
enport, Iowa.  I  quit  chewing  tobacco,  and  have  never  again 
resumed  the  filthy  practice.  I  now  settle  down  in  life  with 
weak  lungs  and  a  broken  constitution,  and  when  the  war  broke 
out  I  was  counted  one  among  the  stoutest  men  in  the  county; 
but  the  sufferings,  hardships  and  exposures  to  which  I  was 
subjected  while  in  the  employ  of  Uncle  Sam,  has  left  me  but 
a  wreck  of  my  former  self.  But,  nevertheless,  it  is  a  miracle 
wrought  by  the  Divine  hand  on  me  that  I  am  alive,  and  it  is 
through  His  mercy  alone  that  I  live  to-day.  God  is  just. 


THE  PRISONER'S  LAMENT. 


When  our  country  called  for  men, 

We  came  from  forge  and  store  and  mill- 

From  workshop,  farm  and  factory, 

The  broken  ranks  to  fill. 

We  left  our  quiet,  happy  homes, 

And  others  we  loved  so  well, 

To  vanquish  all  the  Union  foes, 

Or  fall  where  others  fell. 

Now  in  prisons  drear  we  languish, 

And  it  is  our  constant  cry  — 

Oh,  ye!  who  yet  can  save  us, 

Why  leave  us  here  to  die? 

The  tongue  of  slander  tells  you 

That  our  hearts  were  filled  with  fear  — 

That  all  or  nearly  all  of  us 

Were  captured  in  the  rear; 

But  the  scars  upon  our  bodies 

Of  musket  ball  and  shell, 

The  missing  legs  and  shattered  arms, 

A  truer  tale  will  tell. 


92  A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

We  have  tried  to  do  our  duty 
In  the  sight  of  God  on  high  — 
Oh,  ye  !  who  yet  can  save  us, 
Why  leave  us  here  to  die  ? 

There  are  hearts  with  hope  still  beating, 
In  each  pleasant  Northern  home  — 
Watching,  waiting  for  the  loved  ones 
Who  may  never,  never  come. 
Meager,  tattered,  pale  and  gaunt; 
Growing  weaker  every  day 
With  pinching  cold  and  want, 
Brothers,  sons  and  husbands  lay  — 
Poor  and  helpless  and  captured  they  lie  — 
Oh,  ye!  who  yet  can  save  us, 
Why  will  you  leave  us  here  to  die? 

Outside,  yet  near  Andersonville  prison  gates, 

There  is  a  graveyard  close  at  hand, 

Where  lie  thirteen  thousand  Union  men 

Beneath  the  Georgia  sand. 

Scores  are  added  daily, 

As  day  succeeds  each  day  ; 

And  thus  it  will  be  ever 

Until  all  have  passed  away. 

The  last  can  say,  when  dying, 

With  upturned  and  glazing  eye. 

Both  Love  and  Faith  are  dead  at  home, 

Else  why  leave  us  here  to  die? 

This  was  the  lamentation  of  hundreds  as  they  passed  from 
Andersonville  to  that  bourne  from  which  no  traveler  returns. 

But  before  bringing  my  history  to  a  final  close,  I  wish  to 
say  that  in  the  spring  of  1861  there  were  in  the  loyal  states 
4,000,000  men  fit  for  military  duty  or  service,  and  over  2,000,- 
000  volunteered  for  service  against  the  rebellion ;  and  there 


A  VETERAN  S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  93 

were  of  this  number  96,000  killed  in  action,  5,000  of  which 
were  commissioned  officers,  and  there  were  183,000  died  of  dis- 
ease. Total ,  279,000,  and  there  were  1,300  died  in  Anderson ville 
prison,  the  total  number  of  prisoners  who  died  during  the 
war  of  the  rebellion  is  36,401.  Comrades,  this  calls  our  atten- 
tion to  the  thousands  of  our  brave  comrades  that  were 
slaughtered  by  our  sides,  and  of  the  sufferings  and  privations 
through  wjiich  we  passed  during  the  rebellion.  It  was  our 
nation's  best  men  that  crowded  the  ranks  of  the  Union  army, 
and  we  can  but  pay  our  tribute  to  those  who' fell  in  the  defense 
of  liberty,  and  to  whose  sacrifice  we  owe  all  the  blessings  which 
we  now  enjoy.  The  scenes  of  those  years  of  war  and  carnage 
are  engraved  on  memory's  page  as  with  a  pen  of  iron.  They 
stand  out  like  the  lightning  track  on  the  dark  back  ground 
of  night.  We  could  not  forget  them  if  we  would.  Nor  should 
they  be  forgotten.  They  are  gone.  Is  this  all  ?  Is  the  end 
in  material  things?  Shall  we  never  see  our  soldiers  again? 
Shall  we  never  walk  with  them  on  the  shores  be}rond  the 
river?  Is  there  no  hope  beyond  the  grave?  In  a  few  days 
we  too,  will  be  called.  Already  our  locks  are  whitening.  If 
this  be  all  of  it;  if  the  grave  is  the  end,  then  it  is  question- 
able whether  they  have  not  paid  too  dearly  for  these  blessings 
we  enjoy.  But  it  is  not  the  end.  Things  present  are  typical 
of  things  to  come.  Analogies  reign,  and  things  seen  aid  in 
the  interpretation  of  things  unseen.  Is  there  no  hope  that 
we  shall  bloom  out  into  brighter  and  more  glorious  beings. 
Comrades,  the  long  roil  will  soon  be  sounded  for  another 
muster.  Are  you  ready  to  fall  in?  Can  we  expect  to  spend 
a  life  in  selfishness  and  sin,  and  then  give  to  heaven  the  drugs 
and  dross  of  it.  Can  we  expect  to  muster  unless  we  make 
preparations  for  it?  Comrades,  if  we  will  fall  in  line  and 


94  A  VETERAN  S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR. 

obey  our  Commander,  we  will  come  off  conqueror  through 
Him  that  loved  us  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  happy  and  brighter 
resting  place  beyond  the  grave  with  all  the  pure  and  good. 
"  God  is  love."  Yours  truly, 

J.  R.  COMPTON, 
Company  F,  Fourth  Iowa  Volunteer  Infantry. 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  95 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Capture  of  Jeff  Davis— "My  Old  Mother." 

"Strike!  till  the  last  armed  foe  expires; 

Strike!  for  your  altars  and  your  fires; 
Strike!  for  the  green  graves  of  your  sires, 

God  and  your  native  land. 

1WILL  now  give  you  a  minute  history  of  the  capture 
of  Jeff  Davis,  in  addition  to  my  experience.  Davis  at 
the  approach  of  danger  hurried  southward,  leaving  to  Lee 
and  the  remnant  of  his  army  the  task  of  defending  the  State 
.of  Virginia.  On  the  third  of  April  he  arrived  in  Danville  and 
assumed,  with  such  of  his  cabinet  and  officials  as  he  could 
gather  around  him,  to  establish  the  fiction  of  a  government; 
he  also  issued  a  proclamation  announcing  his  intention  to 
hold  on  to  Virginia,  but  the  capitulation  of  Lee  and  the 
threatening  aspect  of  Sherman  and  Stoneman,  counseled  him 
to  move  further  southward,  while  his  escape  was  possible, 
with  his  fugitive  government  fast  crumbling  to  pieces  around 
him;  he  still  maintained  an  appearance  of  confidence,  and  a 
degree  of  assurance  which  deceived  no  one;  and  at  Charlotta, 
North  Carolina,  where  he  remained  several  days,  he  made  a 
public  speech,  promising  soon  to  have  a  larger  army  than 
ever  before  in  the  field.  About  April  25th,  he  left  Charlotta, 
alarmed  by  the  approach  of  Stoneman's  cavalry,  who  now 
became  aware  that  the  great  head  of  the  rebellion  was  in  their 
neighborhood.  Passing  through  Yorkville,  South  Carolina, 
with  a  train  of  several  ambulances  and  a  small  mounted  es- 


96  A  VETERAN  S  STORY   OF   THE   WAR. 

cort  he  entered  Georgia  in  the  beginning*of  May,  and  on  the 
31st  reached  Washington,  a  small  town  northwest  of  Augusta, 
thence  he  moved  rapidly  southward,  hoping,  possibly,  to  reach 
the  Gulf  and  there  find  a  vessel  to  convey  him  to  Cuba. 
Meanwhile  rumors  of  the  flight  of  Davis  through  Georgia, 
reached  General  Wilson  at  Macon,  who  sent  out  parties  of 
cavalry  to  scour  the  neighboring  country;  at  Irviugsville, 
about  seventy  miles  south  of  Macon,  the  Fourth  Michigan 
Cavalry,  Colonel  Pritchard,  came  upon  traces  of  the  Rebel 
Ex-President,  two  miles  outside  the  town;  they  were  com- 
pletely surprised  and  the  whole  party  of  fugitives  captured, 
including  Mrs.  Davis  and  her  sister,  the  Rebel  Postmaster- 
General  Reagan  and  others.  • 

The  following  description  of  the  manner  in  which  Davis 
was  captured  is  vouched  for  as  true  to  the  minutest  detail,  by 
an  eye  witness  :  Andrew  Bee,  a  private  of  Company  L,  went 
to  the  entrance  of  Davis's  tent  and  was  met  by  Mrs.  Davis, 
bareheaded  and  barefoot,  who,  putting  her  hand  on  his  arm, 
said  :  "Please  do  not  go  in  there  till  my  daughter  gets  her- 
self dressed."  Andrew  thereupon  drew  back,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  a  young  lady  (Miss  Howell)  and  another  person,  bent 
over  as  with  age,  wearing  a  lady's  water-proof  gathered  at 
the  waist,  with  a  shawl  drawn  over  the  head,  and  carrying  a 
tin  pail,  appeared  and  asked  to  go  to  the  run  for  water.  Mrs. 
Davis  also  appears  and  says :  "  For  God's  sake,  let  my  old 
mother  go  to  get  some  water."  No  objections  being  made, 
they  passed  out,  but  sharp  eyes  were  upon  the  singular  old 
mother.  Suddenly,  Corporal  Munger,  of  Company  C,  and 
others  at  the  same  instant,  noticed  that  the  old  mother  was 
wearing  very  heavy  boots  for  an  aged  female,  and  the  corpo- 
ral exclaimed,  "That  is  not  a  woman  !  Don't  you  see  the 


A  VETERAN'S  STORY  OF  THE  WAR.  97 

boots?"  and  spurring  his  horse  forward  and  cocking  his  car- 
bine, compelled  the  withdrawal  of  the  shawl,  and  disclosed 
Jeff.  Davis.  As  if  stung  by  this  discovery  of  his  unmanliness, 
Jeff,  struck  an  attitude  and  cried  out:  "Is  there  a  man  among 
you?  If  there  is,  let  me  see  him.'"  "Fes,"  said  the  corporal, 
"I  am  one,  and  if  you  stir,  I  will  blow  your  brains  out."  "  I 
know  my  fate,  and  might  as  well  die  here/'  But  his  wife 
threw  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  kept  herself  between 
him  and  the  threatening  corporal.  No  harm  was  done  him, 
and  he  was  generally  kindly  spoken  to  ;  he  was  only  stripped 
of  his  female  attire.  As  a  man.  he  was  dressed  in  a  complete 
suit  of  grey,  a  light  felt  hat  and  high  cavalry  boots,  with  a 
grey  beard  of  about  six  weeks'  growth  covering  his  face.  He 
said  he  thought  our  government  was  too  magnanimous  to 
hunt  women  and  children  in  that  way.  When  Col.  Pritch- 
ard  told  him  he  would  do  the  best  he  could  for  his  comfort, 
he  answered,  "I  ask  no  favors  of  you."  To  which  surly  reply 
the  colonel  courteously  responded  by  assuring  him  of  kind 
treatment.  "He  ought  to  have  fallen  in  the  hands  of  some  man 
that  had  suffered  in  Andersonville  prison  about  six  months. 
I  don't  think  Jeff  would  have  been  quite  so  saucy,  or  he  soon 
would  have  wilted." 

Davis  was  conveyed  to  Macon  and  thence  to  Fortress  Mon- 
roe, where  he  arrived  in  the  latter  part  of  May,  and  where  he 
was  incarcerated,  awaiting  his  trial  for  high  treason.  Stevens, 
the  rebel  Vice-President,  was  captured  about  the  same  time, 
together  with  others  who  had  held  high  civil  and  military 
positions  in  the  rebel  government.  On  June,  1865,  there  was 
not  an  organized  body  of  men  east  of  the  Rio  Grande  who 
defied  the  authority  of  the  national  government.  On  May 
7 


98 


A   VETERAN  S   STORY   OF   THE   WAR. 


23d  and  24:th,  the  armies  of  Grant  and  Sherman  were  re- 
viewed in  Washington,  in  the  presence  of  President  Johnson 
and  a  vast  concourse  of  people.  The  United  States  at  once 
took  its  place  among  the  great  powers  of  the  world  more 
than  ever  before. 


INDEX. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Enlists  in  the  Army — Sent  to  St.  Louis — A  Dreaded  Disease— Gen- 
eral Curtis  Orders  Medical  Aid  and  Rations— Return  to  My  Reg- 
iment   7 

CHAPTER  II. 

Improvement  in  Health — Foraging  for  Stock — Measles  in  Camp — 
The  March  on  Springfield,  Missouri,  and  its  Capture — Descrip- 
tion Pea  Ridge 12 

CHAPTER  III. 

Pea  Ridge— First  Day's  Fight — Loss  of  Federal  Battery — Gen. 
Curtis'  Retreat  Cut  Off — The  Out-look  Gloomy  for  the  Union 
Forces,  when  Rebels  Scatter  and  Run — The  Victory  Ours 17 

CHAPTER  IV. 

After  the  Battle — Hospital  at  Springfield — Fishing  and  making 
Rings  of  Mussel  Shells — Trading  Guns — Copperheads  at  Home.  21 

'      CHAPTER  V. 

Down  the  Mississippi — Arkansas  Post — Council  of  War  at  Milli- 
kin's  Bend — Captured — Paroled- — Benton  Barracks — Memphis, 
Corinth,  luka — Rebels  in  the  Blue — Death  of  James  Stafford — 
Chickasaw  Landing — Battle  above  the  Clouds  —  Tibbies  as  a 
Forager 24 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Across  the  Tennessee  —  Barefoot  Soldiers  —  Clayville,  Alabama, 
Warned  by  Southern  Sweethearts — Captured 31 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Man's  Inhumanity  to  Man — Andersonville  Prison  Pen — Scenes  and 
Events...  -°-4 


100  INDEX. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Providence  Springs— Trial  of  Mosby's  Gang— Death  Warrant  Signed 
by  Abraham  Lincoln— Attempts  to  Escape 40 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Many  Plans  for  Escape— Negroes'  Singing— News  from  Atlanta- 
Rate  of  Deaths,  one  every  Eleven  Minutes 45 

CHAPTER  X. 

Terrible  Suffering— Trying  to  Effect  an  Exchange— A  Novel  Way  of 
Concealing  Escaped  Prisoners— Escape  of  Three— Overtaken  by 
Blood  Hounds  and  Recaptured — The  Rebels  try  to  Enlist  the 
Prisoners  of  Andersonville  into  the  Rebel  Army 55 

CHAPTER  XL 

Return  to  Prison— Punishment — Confederate  Government  knew  of 
the  Treatment  at  Andersonville — Jeff  Davis  accessory  to  the 
Murder  of  Thirteen  Thousand  Prisoners  of  War 62 

CHAPTER  XII. 

A  Change  of  Prisons — Escape  at  Belle  Isle — Living  on  Green  Corn — 
The  Swamps — Blood  Hounds — Despair  in  the  Swamps 67 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Still  Fleeing  through  Swamps — No  Food  for  Thirty-eight  Hours- 
Still  Pursued  by  Blood-hounds  —  A  Rain  brings  Relief  and 
destroys  their  Trail 75 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

G.  N.  Tibbies  Finds  One  Large  Sweet  Potato— Still  on  the  Tramp 
and  Meet  a  Rebel  Negro— Home  at  Last— The  Prisoner's  La- 
ment    81 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Capture  of  Jeff  Davis—"  My  Old  Mother  ". '. 95 


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